


Roommates

by DivergentPanda46



Category: Divergent - All Media Types, Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, College, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-12-20 15:05:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 117,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11923434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DivergentPanda46/pseuds/DivergentPanda46
Summary: Eric and Four are strangers when they are assigned to be college roommates. With Eric's girlfriend, Tris, and Four's girlfriend, Christina, often thrown in the mix, friendships are formed and relationships are tested. AU/Modern Day.  *Complete*





	1. Independence

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for checking out my new story! I wanted to give readers a heads up that this story is Fourtris. It will not be a Fourstina (Four x Christina) story nor is it an Eris (Eric x Tris) story, so if you feel strongly about Christina, Fourstina, or Eris I would suggest you don't read it.
> 
> Disclaimer: The Divergent series and its characters are property of Veronica Roth. All I own is my own ideas/plot.

_**Four  
** _ _Late August_

I groan as traffic slows in front of me. I have been in the car for nearly two hours and I am so close to reaching my destination... but with Chicago traffic slowing me down, the ten minutes I  _thought_  I had left could easily become over half an hour... or longer. I hate long car rides. Most people might not consider two hours all that long, but it's different when you're claustrophobic. Rolling down the window would help a bit... if it weren't raining.

My phone rings and I fumble for the cheap headphones that came with the phone. I would really like a pair of bluetooth headphones, but I haven't wanted to spend the money I've been saving to get by at college when I have these cheap stock headphones that are perfectly functional. My father, who I prefer to simply refer to as Marcus, doesn't approve of spending money on 'self-indulgent' things like that, and I am hesitant to work more than part-time-- once I actually find a job, that is. If I don't keep my grades up, Marcus will make me regret it.

I get the headphones situated in my ears and plugged into the phone barely in time to answer on the final ring before it would have redirected to voicemail. I don't even get a chance to see who is calling until just before I answer. It's my girlfriend, Christina. "Hey, Chris," I say tiredly, trying to listen, watch the stop and go traffic, and stretch out my stiff neck all at once-- without causing an accident.

"Hey, baby," she purrs, and I roll my eyes. She is quite sure of her sexual appeal and while I won't deny that she's gorgeous, one of her flaws that is hardest for me to look past is how self-centered and pushy she can be. "Aren't you here yet? I miss you. I wanted to see you before work." I swear I can actually  _hear_  her pout her lower lip.

I need to get it together. This is my girlfriend of a year. I am frustrated with the traffic and sick of the car, but if I don't get my mood under control fast, I'm going to end up with an argument that I really don't want to deal with.

"Sorry, babe," I answer, careful to keep my tone light. "I'm stuck in traffic. I  _should_  be ten minutes away, but judging from the sea of red brake lights ahead of me... I'm guessing it will be at least half an hour, maybe more." I glance at the dashboard clock. It reads five-thirty. I was supposed to leave Milwaukee much earlier in the day but that just... didn't happen. Marcus kept me busy doing all the chores and house repairs he doesn't want to bother with himself before losing his supply of forced child labor. "Then once I get there, I need to get my dorm key, eat dinner, move my stuff in..." I hear Christina huff in annoyance. "What time is your shift?" Chris started her job, cocktail waitressing at some fancy club that I'll probably never be able to afford to hang out at, the night before last, so she moved down to Chicago a few days ahead of me. It sounds like it's going well so far.

"Seven o'clock, and I close tonight so I won't be off until probably three. I'll need to give myself at least half an hour to get there."

"Aw, that's too bad." Honestly, I don't mind having some time to myself tonight, my first night in my dorm room, to get to know my new roommate and all that, but if I tell Chris that, she'll flip shit. "I'm sure you'll want to sleep in tomorrow, so... lunch?"

"Sure! Sounds great!" she chirps, bubbly cheerleader personality back in full force. "Then maybe you can show me your new room... Okay, well, I need ot get ready for work! Love ya, baby!"

"You too, bye, babe." I hang up the phone and pull off my headphones before turning my stereo back up. Christina doesn't like the same music I do, and she's not really one to compromise. Depending how much time we spend together, I may not be hearing much of the music I like for a long while, so I had better enjoy it now.

* * *

I follow the map on the paperwork that came in the mail a few weeks ago. I have only visited the University's campus once, over a year ago, and all these one-way streets are a bit confusing. I'm itching to get out of the car, plus I'm starving. I should have stopped for some fast food and to stretch my legs when I had the chance; instead, I wanted to wait and use the points on my meal card. That way it comes out of Marcus's pocket rather than the limited funds I saved over the past year, which will have to last for who knows how long.

I only make two wrong turns, easily righting myself both times, and finally, after a full two hours with my long legs cramped in the late 90s pickup truck I bought six months ago, I park in the Dauntless dormitory's parking lot and scramble out of the cab, stretching my legs and spine with a groan. The beat-up camper shell appears to be effectively keeping the rain off of my bags in the truck bed, so I leave my belongings in the truck and decide that my first order of business is food.

There is no line at the front desk in the dormitory lobby, and I'm not sure how late the secretaries will stay, so I force myself to wait a few minutes longer for dinner and get my room key on the way. Thankfully, it only takes about five minutes, and the heavyset, grey-haired secretary points the way to the cafeteria. Besides, it turns out I needed to stop there first, anyway-- I forgot that I did not yet have my dining card.

I glance around at the other students milling around the cafeteria as I take my place in line, hoping to see one of my friends that also enrolled at this college, but I don't recognize anyone. I tap the edge of my dining card nervously with the fingers of my left hand.

The girl in front of me glances up at me and smiles sweetly.

She's pretty much Christina's polar opposite. Christina is tall and curvy with mocha skin, dark brown eyes, and chin-length, pin-straight black hair, and she is a bit of a show-off in how she dresses.

The girl in front of me is very petite with a more athletic build, small curves, and blond hair that falls to her lower back in waves. She doesn't seem as concerned with her appearance as Chris always is-- instead she wears worn jeans, a Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt, and black converse with rainbow shoelaces. Her makeup is subtle, and she has the most captivating light blue eyes I have ever seen. She's gorgeous. So is Christina, but Christina knows it and flaunts it. This girl looks quiet and unassuming.

"You like the Chili Peppers?" I ask, gesturing to her shirt. I don't usually talk to strangers, but there's something inviting about her.

She smiles. "Yeah, they're my favorite band," she answers as she takes a few steps forward to keep up with the line's slow forward movement.

"Mine, too," I say.

She holds her hand out toward me and introduces herself. "I'm Tris."

"Four," I answer as I shake her hand, and I find that I've moved up to stand next to her rather than behind her. I wait for her to ask the inevitable questions or make jokes about my name, but to my surprise she doesn't comment on it at all. "Are you new here as well?"

Tris nods. "Yep, just starting my freshman year, though I've lived in Chicago for a few years now. How about you?"

"I just got in about ten minutes ago from Milwaukee," I answer. "I'm a freshman, too. Excited to be out on my own, finally." Tris frowns slightly, as if I brought up a sensitive subject, though I have no idea how I could have. In a second, her sweet smile is back and we have reached the food counter.

"The food here is so good," she tells me. "Much better than what I always made at home, before." She puts a salad and some sort of creamy dressing on her tray, followed by a hamburger, which she adds lots of condiments and veggies to. I take fries and a hamburger, which I dress similarly to Tris's. She grabs a piece of chocolate cake and I begin to reach for some cookies, but Tris stops me with her hand clamped urgently around my wrist. I look at her with surprise. "The cookies are nothing special. You  _have_  to try this cake. It's  _only_  in the Dauntless dining hall, so my boyfriend and I call it Dauntless cake. Seriously, this will change your life." Ah, so she has a boyfriend. I'm really kind of relieved. I'm enjoying her company and would like to hang out with her again sometime, but I doubt Chris would put up with that if Tris were single.

I chuckle at her dramatics as Tris plops a plate of rich-looking cake onto my tray. I'm surprised when Tris waits for me while I slide my card, as though we had already agreed to sit together. I don't know anyone in here right now, so I'm glad for the pleasant company.

As we eat, I learn that Tris grew up mostly in a middle-class suburb southwest of Chicago called Orland Park, and that she moved to Chicago two years ago. She doesn't say anything about her family, which is perfect because I don't want to feel obligated to talk about mine, either. She isn't sure what she wants to major in yet, but she enjoys art, and she wants to do something that helps people. I tell her that my father would like me to go into politics or law, but I would rather study criminal justice, or possibly something along the lines of sports medicine.

When we have finished our dinners and cut a bite of cake off with my fork, I swear Tris actually holds her breath and bites her lower lip as she watches my face in anticipation of my reaction. I'm not sure what the big deal is, it's just ca---

"Oh my God," I moan, not even caring that she can see my half-chewed cake in my mouth as I speak. I was wrong. This is  _not_  just a piece of cake. Tris was right. It's the best cake in the world-- life changing.

"Oh no, I missed it!" I hear a familiar voice groan. I hop up to give my friends Uriah and Zeke, brothers who are less than a year apart and in the same grade, man-hugs.

Before i have a chance to sit down, Uriah has tried to steal the rest of my cake. Tris comes to the rescue and slaps his hand away and yanks my place close to her protectively. "Some friend you have here, Four," she says with a hint of humor in her voice, gesturing to Uriah. "I mean, trying to steal your  _first ever_  piece of the  _best_  cake in the world... that is just plain evil."

Zeke clears his throat. "Care to introduce us to your...  _friend,_  Four?" Zeke says with one eyebrow raised. I roll my eyes. Of course he would assume that I'm hitting on her, because that's probably what he or Uriah would do.

"Zeke, Uriah, this is Tris. She was ahead of me in line and I don't think either of us really wanted to eat all alone. Tris, these are my friends Uriah and Zeke Pedrad," I tell her, motioning to each of the brothers in turn. "They're brothers. Not twins, but same grade. Freshmen like us."

I sit back down and Tris slides the cake back to me before she reaches across and shakes their hands.

"Well, at least we know that you have good taste in cake," Uriah grins.

Zeke laughs. "But expect to keep your guard up, with this doofus around. Protect it with your life, because as you saw, he will steal it the second you look away."

"What can I say?" Uriah says, shrugging one shoulder. "Cake is life."

* * *

After they've gotten their food and eaten, Uriah and Zeke help me lug my bags up to my dorm room; Tris said goodbye a few minutes before the Pedrads finished their cake. I was kind of sad to see her go, but I'm sure I'll run into her in the cafeteria again soon. I think she'd be a great addition to our group of friends, and it doesn't seem like she has many here just yet. None that she spoke of, anyway, other than her boyfriend. In fact, I think he's the  _only_  person she mentioned, and only briefly.

"Nice, man," Zeke says, bumping fists with me after we all drop my bags in the living room. "Uriah's and my room is like this, too."

He's right, this is really nice and spacious for a dorm room-- really, 'apartment' would be a more accurate term. We entered into a hallway a couple of yards long that opens into a small lounge room; on the other side of the wall on the right side of the hallway is a small kitchenette with a refrigerator that is much larger than a mini-fridge, but still not full sized. There is a microwave, sink, and small counter with cupboards above and below.

The view looks pretty nice from the large window on the other side of the living room, and it has a small balcony, though I know I won't spend any time out there-- I don't like heights and we're ten floors up. There's another small hallway off the kitchen and it looks like there's just one door down there-- probably the bathroom. Off the living room are two more doors.

I check the furthest door and find that someone's suitcases have already exploded in there. I hope my roommate-- whose name I don't even know yet-- is not as messy in the common living spaces as he is in his bedroom. I motion the guys to follow me into the other bedroom-- which is basically identical to the first, just without clutter everywhere-- and they drag the bags they helped carry after me. We drop the smaller bags on the double bed, and the larger ones on the floor. I have a small closet, and there is a desk with a lamp against the wall opposite the bed. The white paint on all the walls throughout the apartment looks fresh, the beige carpet is free of stains, and overall (other than my roommate's messy room) the whole place looks pretty clean.

"Well, we gotta go, man," Uriah says. "Marlene and Shauna are waiting on us. Got a double date tonight."

I bump fists with each of them and thank them again for saving me two extra trips with my bags. They're good friends, almost more like brothers to me; they've been my buddies since kindergarten. Zeke glances back at me just before walking out my bedroom door and calls out, "we're in room 811, come by whenever!" Then he pauses and turns back, gripping the door frame with one hand and grinning at me. "On second thought, text first. We may be enjoying our new parent-free freedom with the girls. I'll give you the same courtesy with Christina." I roll my eyes as he laughs on his way out, but I have to admit... I'm definitely happy to have this new found freedom.


	2. Roommate Trouble

**_Tris_ **

I leave the cafeteria with a smile on my face for the first time since I moved into my dorm room. The first two nights, I ate alone; the only friend I really have here is Eric. He has a few friends who also enrolled at Chicago University, but they aren't really people that I would choose to spend my time with. Four was really nice, though, and his friends seemed like a lot of fun as well; maybe I'll make some friends and not have to sit there all alone every night that Eric has to work.

Eric and I started dating nearly two years ago, right after I moved to Chicago. I no longer have any family, but Eric has been my one and only constant since my world fell apart when I was sixteen. It's been a hard few years, but I think things should be a lot easier now that I'm at college, living on campus. Eric works nights tending bar at a club that is too expensive for me to ever visit, so nights can be lonely.

I head back to my first floor dorm room. That's one aspect of college, so far, that I really have not had good luck with. While the rooms from the sixth floor up, like Eric's, are more like apartments-- and of course cost a enough more that I couldn't bring myself to choose one when I am so limited financially-- mine is basically a tiny box. That isn't the bad part, though. No, where I had really bad luck was with which roommate the college assigned me. I tried to switch within minutes of Molly walking through that door, but I was unsuccessful.

I unlock the door and practically tiptoe in, praying that Molly will be out. Unfortunately, my bad luck holds steady. She's there. I head straight to the dresser, trying to stay out of her way, planning to pull out gym clothes and some clothes to take with me to Eric's tonight and get out of there as fast as I can, but when I see my bed, I freeze.

There is reddish, clay-like mud all over my quilt-- and I mean, thick and  _covered_  in it-- and Molly sits on her bed with her arms crossed, smirking at me.

This isn't just any quilt. It's a quilt that my mother made for me when I was a child, and it's one of my most prized possessions. She spent months stitching it before giving it to me for my eleventh birthday. I was about to start middle school in just a few months, and it was a part of a bigger gift; she and I worked together to completely redecorate my bedroom, transforming it from a room made for a princess- and unicorn-loving little girl to that of a more grown-up, almost teenager. I didn't change a thing in it until I moved to Chicago after my parents died. That quilt was the only tangible reminder I had of one of my favorite memories of her.

"W-what...?" I swallow hard. "What happened to my quilt?"

Molly gives me the fakest look of innocence I've seen in my life. "Oh, I needed a blanket for a picnic. I was sure you wouldn't mind. It's just a little dirt, and that blanket is so ugly, anyway." She just can't keep that smirk off her face.

Tears prick at my eyes, but I can't let her get to me. I can't let her see weakness. I bite my cheek to keep the tears at bay as I throw enough clothes for a week into a large duffel bag then fold the quilt carefully and stuff it in on top. After grabbing a tank top, sports bra and running shorts, as well as my cross-trainers, and turn to leave without a word.

I freeze at the sound of Molly's voice. "Leaving so soon?" she sneers. "Going to see your little boyfriend, slut?" I want nothing more than to turn around and punch in her ugly, bulbous nose. Honestly, it would probably improve her looks. But I clench my fists at my sides, take a couple of deep breaths, and continue on without a word, changing in the bathroom down the hall on my way to the gym in the dormitory basement.

I decide to work the punching bags today, pretending with each hit that the bag is Molly's face. Eric started teaching me to fight, at my request, after my the first time someone tried to break into my apartment. A teenage girl living alone in a not-so-great neighborhood of Chicago isn't the safest situation possible. Eric really only helped me when I badgered him to, but it was enough to learn the basics and train on my own from there.

Molly and I, of course, have a history. When I transferred to Lincoln High School partway through my junior year, apparently she had been pining over Eric since middle school. He quickly took an interest in me, and that was all it took for her to hate me. Ever since, her main goal in life has been to torment me... and she's still at it. She has done everything from pulling my towel off in the school locker room to hanging my embarrassingly small bra from the big oak tree on our high school campus; from slamming me against lockers so hard I got a bump on my head to "accidentally" dropping her bowl of spaghetti upside-down in my backpack. She even got suspended once, but it didn't stop her. Ending up with Molly as a roommate was definitely a stroke of bad luck, but I would expect no less-- bad luck is typically the only kind of luck I have.

* * *

I feel a little better after my workout... and then, after I shower, I open up my duffel bag for a change of clothes and see my quilt folded at the top. Tears swim in my eyes all over again. I pull out my phone and tap Eric's contact-- one of the few names on my recent calls list.

"Yeah?" he answers, sounding annoyed. I bite my lip and debate telling him to just forget it, that I'll see him later. "What? I'm at work, babe."

"Um, I'm going to stay at your place tonight if that's okay? Or maybe, you know... most nights?"

He sighs, sounding exasperated. "I already said you could, Tris."

I nod, then realize that he can't see me because this is a phone call. "Yeah..." He has to be able to hear how tight my voice is. I know it shouldn't embarrass me but it still does. "Yeah, I know. Just, um... did your roommate show up yet?"

"I don't know, Tris," he snaps. "Don't you think I would have told you if he did? He hadn't when I left for work but he might be there now. I guess you'll just have to go up there and see. If he's there, just stay out of his way until I can talk to him." Tears are streaming down my face now. I sit there silently. "Did something happen, Tris?" There's a lot of noise in the background and I know if I keep him on the phone much longer he's really going to get irritated. I'm sure they're busy at the club. It is a Friday night, after all.

"Just... Molly ruined my quilt. The one my mom made me."

"It's just a blanket, Tris. You can get a new one." He just doesn't get it. It's not just a blanket to me. It's like losing her all over again.

"Yeah, okay," I squeak, wiping the tears off my cheeks. "Okay. I'll see you tonight."

"Later, babe." The line goes dead.

I splash my face with cold water before leaving the bathroom, then head straight to the elevator. After punching the button for the tenth floor, I lean tiredly against the wall. My mother always understood when I was upset. She was so kind, patient and selfless. I run my finger over the tattoo that is just barely hidden under my shirt collar, the one I got for my family. It's a habit; whenever I miss them too much, I touch the ravens inked onto my collarbone, flying toward my heart. There are three: one for my mother, one for my father, and one for my brother Caleb, even if he doesn't deserve it. He may be a sorry excuse for a brother, but he's still my family, nonetheless.

When the elevator doors open, I slowly trudge down the hall to room 1024. Eric gave me the spare key to his place when I first showed up at the door upset about Molly's appearance. I have no doubt that if I stuck around my own dorm room, eventually I'd wake up with a butter knife in my eye or something, so I stay away as much as I possibly can. I'm really nervous for his roommate to show up; what if he isn't okay with me being around all the time? Then what will I do?

No one is in the apartment when I enter, and all the lights are off. I switch on lights in the kitchen and living room; I somehow feel less lonely when there's plenty of light. In Eric's bedroom, I look for  _any_ spare patch of floor to set my bag on, but there is none, so I end up tossing it out into the living room on my way to make myself a drink before tidying up Eric's room. It's such a disaster, I won't be able to stand being in here as it is. On my way there I peek in the other bedroom and my stomach lurches, afraid I'll be kicked out and have to go back to my own room tonight, when I see that the roommate has, in fact, arrived. There are a few bags on the floor and it looks like others have already been unpacked.

As long as no one is here, I figure I can listen to whatever I want, so I set my phone to play Red Hot Chili Peppers on the bluetooth speaker I got Eric for Christmas. I am about half done tidying up when I hear the front door shut... and I freeze. I feel like I've broken into someone's home or something, like I don't belong here. I don't really feel that way when it's just Eric and me, but now there's this unknown guy living here and he just walked in the door, certainly not expecting to find some random girl in his apartment.

As my mind races, I hear him walking around the living room, then I think maybe go into his own room. I'm relieved that it seems I won't have to face him yet, and I resume gathering up the dirty dishes Eric has already managed to accumulate in this room, carefully stacking them so I can take everything to the sink in one trip.

Only a few moments pass before I hear footsteps in the living room again... this time coming toward Eric's room.

"Hey!" I hear a deep voice call out. "I was wondering when I'd get to meet you. I'm--"

My head snaps to the doorway as Eric's roommate stops mid-sentence and I see the guy from the cafeteria, Four, standing there with his mouth half open and his eyes wide in surprise, one hand gripping the door frame. Then his eyebrows knit together as his expression turns from startled to confused. "Tris?"


	3. The Third Wheel

_**Four** _

I hadn't expected to be provided a full sized bed, so I had packed the wrong size of sheets. If I wanted to sleep tonight, I needed to buy bedding with some of the money I was trying so hard to save. Driving around an unfamiliar city can make the quickest of shopping trips take much longer than expected, and Target has a tendency to distract me with all the things I didn't know I needed until I walked into their store. Of course, I don't actually want to spend much, so by the time I had put all of those didn't-know-I-needed-this items back on the shelf, checked out, and found my way back to the dorm, I had been gone over two hours.

I take the stairs to the tenth floor; all I'm carrying is a blanket and some sheets, and a little exercise never hurt anyone, right? Who am I kidding-- I really just hate elevators because of my whole issue with confined spaces.

It's almost ten o'clock when I unlock and open my front door. The lights are on in the kitchen and living room, and music is drifting in from my unnamed roommate's bedroom. I can't help smiling, relieved that my roommate has good taste in music; he's listening to my favorite band, the Red Hot Chili Peppers. It's pretty cool that I have come across two Chili Peppers fans in one day. My other friends don't care much for them. They all listen to that top forty crap.

I drop my bags on my bed before approaching the open bedroom door. "Hey!" I call out. "I was wondering when I'd get to meet you. I'm--" when I see the person in the other bedroom, I stop mid-sentence, startled. The person in the second bedroom... is a girl. Not just any girl; it's Tris, the one from dinner. Tris can't be my roommate? Why is she here? "Tris?" I say, even though obviously, yes, she is Tris. I just don't really know what to say.

Her jaw drops and her eyebrows arch upward. "Four? You're Eric's roommate?" I think I get it now...

"Uh... I guess? I haven't met him yet. Is Eric, um... the boyfriend you mentioned?" I ask with furrowed brows as I look around, noticing how much tidier the room is compared with a few hours ago. She slowly nods. "Uh... okay... so... where is Eric, then?"

"At work," she says nervously, but her voice gets higher at the end, so it comes out sounding more like a question. Tris picks up the dishes she was stacking and carries them past me and places them in a dishpan on the kitchen counter before moving it all to the sink and beginning to fill the pan with soapy water. I follow her.

"So... what's going on, Tris? Not that this isn't a nice surprise..."

"Uh, well, I have pretty much the worst luck ever," she begins, "and I ended up with the girl who has hated and tormented me for the last two years... as my roommate. I went straight to talk to housing, but they were less than helpful. Eric said I could stay here, I hope that's okay with you... I'm afraid that if I'm at my room much things will just get worse." She sounds timid and it surprises me; in the cafeteria tonight, she seemed full of life. Does she really think I'd kick her out?

"Oh, yeah, of course I don't mind, Tris. Actually, I was hoping to run into you again anyway so I could introduce you to the rest of my friends." The tips of my ears are suddenly warm, and I feel like I'm stumbling over my words, even though they seem to be coming out alright by the time they make it to my lips. "After dinner tonight, I was thinking that you'd really fit in well with us."

Tris's smile lights up her whole face. "I'd love to meet them!" she exclaims as she pulls a bottle of Jack Daniels out of the freezer and a can of coke out of the fridge. "Want one?" she asks, keeping her eyes on the glass she had set aside before putting the others in the sink, as she pours a few centimeters of whiskey into it. I accept the offer and she swiftly grabs the last clean glass from the cupboard. Once she's handed me my Jack & Coke, she holds her glass out. "Cheers!" I clink my glass against hers and laugh slightly.

I stare at her kind of awkwardly for a moment and she raises her eyebrows as she takes a small sip of her drink. "Thanks for the drink," I say, raising my glass slightly, as if she wouldn't know what drink I was referring to, before I turn and wander back to the living room. I spot the box of DVDs I left next to the TV and kneel on the floor to begin putting them away.

I don't notice that Tris has come up behind me until she plops down beside me, legs twisted like a pretzel, like a little kid would-- which is exactly how she looks as she grabs a DVD out of the box, her eyes lighting up. "Ooh!" she squeals, holding the case next to her face so I can see it; she has chosen Shaun of the Dead. "Let's watch this one!" I smile and nod, taking the case from her. As I pop the disc into the player, she rummages through my box, placing a few DVDs at a time on the shelf. "Actually, we need to watch... like...  _all_  of these. This box is like a collection of all things zombies!" Her eyes are bright-- she looks so excited.

"Definitely," I grin. "My girlfriend hates most of these. She says they're too scary."

Tris rolls her eyes as she places the last movie on the shelf and climbs onto the couch, resuming her pretzel-like position.

It's about twelve-thirty when we finish the movie. We chatted and laughed through the whole show, as we had each seen it many times before, but now we are both yawning. Tris stumbles to the kitchen and quickly washes the dishes that had been soaking as I bag up the empty soda cans and put the now mostly empty bottle of whiskey back in the freezer. It's funny how we work together so seamlessly despite just having met today. We even like the same bands and movies; if my roommate was going to have a girlfriend over a lot, I'm glad it's Tris. I just hope Christina and the gang like her.

"I'm gonna turn in," Tris says as she places the last glass in the drying rack.

"Me, too," I yawn. Eric must work late night shifts like Chris does. Tris is already in the bathroom brushing her teeth, so I go back to my own room to dig through my bags for my bathroom stuff. When I find it, there is no sign of Tris, and Eric's bedroom door is closed. Oh, well-- I can ask him about his schedule myself, tomorrow. Right now, I just need to sleep. My internal clock is pretty persistent about my early morning runs, and I know I'll be waking up far too soon.

* * *

When I return from my morning run at eight-thirty the next morning, I don't see anyone in the common areas, nor did I when I left this morning just after seven. I'm starving, but I'm sure that I stink enough to clear the entire cafeteria if I don't shower first, so I make it quick.

It's just before nine when I get in line at the cafeteria, and a moment later Shauna and Marlene fall in step behind me. They also attended the same high school as I did, and I became friends with the pair when Uriah and Marlene started dating two years ago. Shauna-- a friend of Marlene's-- and Zeke started dating about six months later. We chat for a few minutes, then something catches Shauna's eye across the room and a crease forms between her eyebrows.

"Who's that?" she interrupts Marlene to ask. Marlene and I follow her line of sight and I see that Zeke and Uriah are sitting at a table on the far side of the cafeteria. Uriah is talking animatedly and Zeke is grinning and shaking his head. Then I notice that they aren't alone-- Tris is there, her head thrown back in laughter.

"Oh, that's Tris," I say. "She sat with me last night after we were in the dinner line together, then Zeke and Uri came and sat with us before we finished eating. Oh, and she's my roommate's girlfriend."

"Oh, what's your roommate's name?" Marlene asks. "What's he like?"

"Uh...." What was his name, anyway? I haven't actually met the guy, but I know Tris said it. Aaron? Evan?... no... oh yeah. "Eric. His name is Eric. And I don't know, I haven't met him yet. He was working late last night, I guess."

"Then how do you know she's his girlfriend?"

I shrug as I place a couple of muffins on my tray alongside my scrambled eggs. "She had roommate trouble. I guess Eric said she could chill in our room. Doesn't bother me any-- she's nice, has good taste in music, and likes zombie movies."

Shauna chuckles. "Sounds like a match made in heaven. I hope her staying there isn't a regular thing, though, or Christina will pitch a fit."

I frown as I pay for my food. "Why would it matter? Tris already has a boyfriend. It sounds like they're serious, if she's practically living with him--"

"Woah, the whole sleeping over is an every night thing?" Marlene shakes her head. "Good luck, Four."

Would Chris really be that upset about it? I've seen her jealous side before, but I think it should be fine since Tris has a boyfriend. No reason to be jealous, right? I guess I'll just have to wait and see, but Tris looked worried about her roommate situation, and I'm not going to pick a fight with my new roommate about his girl. I brush the worry aside; even if Christina is upset, I'm sure she will get over it. At least I hope so.

* * *

When I head back to my place, I finally get my first glimpse of Eric. Tris had left before me and is busy cleaning the kitchen while Eric lays sprawled out across the couch, watching some stupid reality show on MTV. He must hear the door but doesn't even look up at me. The first thing I notice about him is that he's about my size, but his body type is different: I am strong, but more compact and wiry, while his muscles are bulky. His dark blond hair is short on the sides and longer on top, a style he probably usually wears slicked back, but right now it's just a messy mop of bedhead.

His face is full of metal-- above his eyebrow, on his ears, nose, lips-- and his arms are covered in tattoos. He isn't at all who I would have pictured with Tris. It isn't that I thought she would have some prep-school rich kid for a boyfriend, but I still would never have pictured the guy in front of me.

Though he's just relaxing on the couch, his sharp jawline is clearly set and a little tense, and his gray eyes are zoned in on the television with what appears to be an unbreakable focus, as if the place could burn down around him and he'd just keep watching that stupid damn show; he doesn't glance up at Tris once as she dances around the kitchen, sponge in hand, swaying her hips to whatever music is coming through her ear buds.

Tris's eyes light up when she turns and sees me standing there, and I can't help smiling back. She quickly pulls the ear buds from her ears and sets her phone, headphones still attached, on the now shiny countertop. "Hey, stranger!" she jokes warmly. She has taken off the sweatshirt she was wearing this morning, and today she has on a tank top, revealing a tattoo that had been covered yesterday-- three blackbirds, maybe crows or ravens, along her left collarbone. I have to force myself to rip my eyes away from the ink on her creamy white skin.  _Her eyes are up there,_  I remind myself.

"Hey, yourself." Eric's eyes finally snap away from the television, and he stretches. "Need any help in there?"

"Aw, you're so sweet," she says with a grin, "but, no. You haven't even been around here long enough to make any mess-- I've got it." Tris leaves her cleaning behind and crosses to the couch. "Eric!" she says excitedly, though he's already sitting up now with his eyes on me and his jaw set.  "Don't you want to meet your roommate?"

Eric seems to relax slightly. What, did he think that Tris had met some guy and told him to just walk on into her  _boyfriend's_  place? Please. I wonder if he might be the jealous type. Eric stands and wraps an arm around Tris's waist, pulling her into his side. I stop myself from rolling my eyes-- he was showing no interest in her at all until he noticed me.

I stick out one hand anyway. "So, you're Eric. My name is Four."

Eric snorts. "Four... like the number? Your parents didn't really name you after a number, did they?"

And now I have already concluded that Tris is definitely the better half of this couple. "Exactly like the number," is all I say.

"Sorry about Tris being dumped on you last night. I had to work. But she will probably be here a lot, if it doesn't bother you too much." He's got the intimidating glare down. In one look he communicates that I had better say it's not a problem, and that I had better not touch his girl. I hadn't planned to, anyway-- if he knew Christina he'd know one girl is enough trouble. I glance to Tris and she glares down at her bare feet, her cheeks flushed.

"No, it wasn't-- and isn't-- a problem." I look Eric in the eyes again. "We got along fine. And she has good taste in music."

Tris's eyes burn into me and Eric grunts. "Okay, well, nice to meet you,  _Four._ " He snickers slightly as he says my name. "We'll see you later." He turns to Tris. "C'mon, baby," he says in this smooth voice that makes me uneasy. With that, he grabs Tris by the wrist and pulls her behind him into his bedroom.


	4. Four's Girlfriend

_**Tris** _

"So, you and Four  _'got along fine'_ , did you?"

I can't quite read his tone, but Eric is rarely jealous. He is a bit possessive and makes a show of it when we meet someone new-- like he did today with Four-- but otherwise, he's a confident guy, and I've never given him any reason not to trust me. I decide to assume that he's genuinely asking how it went last night.

"Uh, yeah," I answer as I pull my clothes back on. "We actually met downstairs in the dining hall earlier last night, so that made things a little less awkward. And he has an awesome collection of zombie movies." I love zombie movies, they're my favorite. Eric rolls his eyes. He thinks they're stupid.

Eric narrows his eyes slightly as I sit down on the bed next to him. "He have a girlfriend?"

I nod, and Eric looks more at ease. "I haven't met her yet. I did meet his other friends, though, and they're really nice! When we saw each other again here at the apartment last night, he said he was hoping to run into me anyway because he thought his friends would like me. So, I'm pretty excited about that," I ramble with a smile.

Eric scowls. He doesn't really like very many people. "What's wrong with the friends we have? We don't need new ones." I snort, getting up to leave the room, but he grabs my wrist.

"What, Eric, you mean Peter, Drew and Molly? In case you forgot, Molly has spent the past two years tormenting me, and I have no idea why you hang out with Peter and Drew, either. They're all assholes. They may be your friends, but they've never been mine."

Eric groans. "I don't have to hang out with them, do I?"

"What makes you think you won't like them? Do I have bad taste in friends or something?" I ask, annoyed.

Eric snorts. "I wouldn't know. You've never  _had_  any friends, since I've known you, anyway. And you sure didn't seem to get a very good read on your brother."

His words hit me like a punch in the gut. The comment about Caleb, especially, was a low blow. And the worst part is... he's right. I've never been good at making friends-- I had always been encouraged to be quiet and modest, so I was. I may as well have been invisible. And after my parents died, Caleb may have kept me out of foster care, but he left me on my own the second he could-- sixteen years old, alone and scared. I called and texted him for a while but he never responded, and eventually changed his number. I can only assume it was because my brother is such a coward that he decided a new phone number was easier than just telling me he didn't want contact with me.

Eric has stuck around, has been the one person who would actually notice if I just disappeared, for nearly two years. My roommate hates me, I already gave up my shitty apartment-- which I struggled to pay the rent on each month-- and I have no family or friends. Eric has been there through everything. I guess his feelings have some validity-- change is hard for anyone, and he has always had me entirely to himself.

I sigh. "I know... you're right. Still, I'd like to  _try_  at least, to start fresh and make some friends. Maybe you could give them a chance?"

Eric glares, but eventually relents. "I shouldn't have said those things. I'm sure they will like you, and maybe I will hang out with you all once in awhile." Eric may not be the nicest guy, and this may be the closest he ever gets to giving an apology, but he's there. He's always still there. At least he knows he shouldn't have said it, even if it's true.

He sighs as he pulls me onto the bed, and I cuddle into him with my legs entwined with his, resting my forehead in the crook of his neck. "Tell me about your new friends," he murmurs.

I smile and trace nothings on his chest. "Well, last night I met Four in the dinner line. I was wearing my Chili Peppers shirt and they're his favorite band too and... I just hate eating dinner alone every night, you know? Anyway, while we were eating his friends Zeke and Uriah showed up-- they're brothers. They're funny, and friendly. Then I met Shauna and Marlene at breakfast this morning-- they're dating Zeke and Uri, and I really liked them. It will be nice to have some girlfriends, if everything works out."

"Mmm... that's good, baby," he mumbles sleepily. The late nights at his job really get to him sometimes.

"Like I said, I haven't met Four's girlfriend yet, but I'm sure we both will soon. All he really mentioned about her was that she says all the zombie movies are too scary," I chuckle. "But I hope I'll get along with her, anyway. You should come eat lunch with us." I wait, but he doesn't respond. Eric's breathing has become slow and even, so I sit up. Sure enough, he's fast asleep, so I pull the sheet over him and tiptoe out.

* * *

Four hadn't been there when I came out of Eric's room, though he hadn't mentioned going anywhere. Then again, why would he? It's not like it was my business to keep tabs on him. I just hoped that he hadn't overheard... things... and been uncomfortable. That was never something we really had to worry about before, since I was already living in an apartment on my own when Eric and I met.

I take the elevator back to ground level. As soon as I enter I scan the tables for my new friends-- at least, I hope they'll be my friends-- and smile when I see Uriah and Marlene just sitting down at an empty table. The line is pretty short today, but once I enter it and grab a tray, I notice Zeke and Shauna scanning their dining cards at the register, and recognize the back of Four's head about five people ahead of me, his arm around the waist of a girl with black hair and mocha skin. I can't see her face, but I  _can_  see her body and my stomach pinches with slight envy. I wish I had her height... her curves... the confidence to dress in short skirts and heels and skimpy crop tops like she does. I honestly have no idea what Eric has ever seen in me-- he could easily be with someone that looks more like  _her._  And with how attractive Four is, I am sure that her face is even prettier than the rest of her.

I shake my head to clear the thoughts as I put a salad and a plate of pasta. I really kind of felt like eating a sandwich, but all they have today is ham, which I hate. I'm tempted to also get a piece of Dauntless cake, but I am sure I won't like the number on the scale soon if I get into a habit of eating that at every meal.

When I sit down at the table, everyone greets me and Four's girlfriend, Christina-- who is just as beautiful as I expected-- introduces herself with a wave, since it's too far to reach across the table to shake hands. I wave back and offer her a nervous smile, and she smiles back widely, though I can't tell for sure if it's genuine.  _Of course it is, Tris, don't be so paranoid,_ I mentally scold myself. I just haven't had such great luck with the whole friendship thing since moving to Chicago-- Molly started rumors about me the second Eric looked my way.

When I look at Four, he averts his eyes and the tips of his ears turn a bright red, his cheeks pink. I guess that answers the question of whether he heard Eric and me. Heat rushes to my face, even the tips of my ears, at the realization. I'll have to try to be quieter-- and convince Eric to as well-- in the future. I really don't want to make anyone uncomfortable.

Uriah looks between Four and me and chuckles. "I guess there must already have been an awkward situation, huh?" he mutters quietly-- I only heard him because I'm sitting right next to him.

I elbow him in the ribs. "Shut up, Uriah!" I hiss.

"Ow!" he exclaims, rubbing his side. "Watch out for Tris, she's stronger than she looks!"

"That was nothing," I say, smirking, and Uriah shrinks back in fear.

Zeke guffaws. "Uriah likes to pretend he's all badass, but he's afraid of Shortcake over there."

"He's a wise man," I retort, and Shauna laughs.

"So, all of you are friends from high school?" I ask. They all respond with some form of agreement, and Marlene elaborates.

"Shauna and I have been friends since sixth grade, as well as her younger sister, Lynn, but she still has a year of high school left," Marlene explains. "Zeke and Uriah have been friends with Four since like kindergarten, so our groups kind of merged when Uri and I started dating two years ago." I glance at Christina, then look questioningly back at Marlene. "Oh, yeah, and Christina moved from Chicago hmm... two, two and a half years ago, I guess? Near the end of sophomore year. She became friends with Shauna and me, and then eventually she and Four started dating, after the rest of us had paired up."

I mostly nod along with their conversation, though they all make an effort to include me. It's all just kind of overwhelming, sitting with six strangers who all know each other well. I don't know what Four, Zeke and Uriah have said to make them all accept me so quickly, but the girls seem to have already decided that I'm a part of the gang, and Zeke is already teasing me like I'm his little sister or something. By the end of lunch, I've been roped into shopping with the girls tomorrow, and I think the nickname 'Shortcake,'coined by Zeke-- I assume due to both my height and my interaction with Uriah yesterday over Four's cake-- already seems to have stuck.

Four and Christina leave first, with Christina whining to him about wanting to see his new place. When I can't stomach any more fish sticks I say goodbye to the rest of the group before I get some food to go, to take to Eric.

When I arrive back at Eric's, his bedroom door is still closed. I can hear Four and Christina in the other bedroom, but the door is open, and I'm relieved that I won't have to listen to the same sort of show Four had to hear from Eric and me earlier. I set the food on the counter and quietly enter Eric's room.

He must have been ready to wake up, because at the slight dip of the bed when I sit at its edge, his eyes flutter open and he stretches with a low groan. "Hey," he says, his voice thick with sleep, resting both hands behind his head.

"Hey, handsome," I say, smiling at him. "I brought some food up for you, it's in the kitchen."

Eric nods, giving me a chaste kiss as he gets up and pulls on a pair of black basketball shorts and a red tank top. I quickly make the bed and pick up the dirty clothes he left on the floor before following him. I was raised to keep tidy, but Eric is an absolute slob.

When step into the living room, Eric is laughing with Christina and Four turns and looks at me with raised eyebrows. Finally Four clears his throat. "Uh... obviously you two already know each other...?" he says awkwardly.  _How would he know Christina? Didn't she_ just _move down here from Milwaukee? Or wait... the girls said she moved from Chicago several years ago..._

"Oh, sorry!" Christina says, moving back to Four and giving me a sickly sweet smile as she wraps her arm around her boyfriend's arm. "Eric and I work together."

"Yeah, Chris is the new cocktail waitress I mentioned... remember?" Eric says, reaching for the box of food on the counter. I actually do not remember him mentioning a new cocktail waitress, so I don't answer.

"Oh..." I say, because what else  _is_ there to say? "That's... cool..." I look to Four and he shrugs. I guess if he isn't worried, then I won't either. And Eric, after all, did put aside his jealousy this morning about Four.

I glance at the clock. It's nearly 1:30. "Eric," I say, but he has opened the to go box I brought back for him and doesn't seem to notice. I roll my eyes and head back to the bedroom. I have to work in half an hour. When I come out fifteen minutes later, he's nowhere to be seen. "What the hell?!" I mutter with a heavy sigh. I don't have a car, and it's going to be very hard, if not impossible, to make it to work on time without one. I was counting on my boyfriend giving me a ride. I should have gotten his attention and made sure he remembered before I went back to get dressed.

"Everything okay, Tris?" Four asks, appearing in his bedroom doorway.

"Not really," I mutter. "Eric was supposed to give me a ride to work and I don't know where the fuck he went now. It's only a few minutes away by car but there is no way I can get there on time without one." I pull out my phone, scrolling through my contacts to call my boss, internally cringing. This isn't the first time something like this has happened.

"Come on," Four says, grabbing his keys off the counter. "I'll drive you." I glance around nervously. Where did his girlfriend go? What if she gets upset? "Chris left to go shopping," he says, rolling his eyes, "and I think Eric was going to the gym."

I nod, grabbing my purse. "Thank you," I say quietly to Four as I walk toward the front door.

 


	5. Job Hunt

_**Four** _

Tris stares out the window, neither of us speaking, other than her telling me which way to go. It's an awkward sort of silence, which sucks, because until this morning our new friendship felt unusually comfortable.

After only about a minute, Tris blurts out, "Look, I know you heard... Eric and me... this morning. I mean, that much was obvious when your face turned beet red the moment you looked at me." My face starts heating up again. Damn it.

I scratch the back of my neck uncomfortably. "Uh... yeah... um... well I didn't hear... that much..." I stutter.  _Stop being such a Stiff, Tobias,_  I tell myself. I glance at Tris and her cheeks are flushed, too.

"Uh yeah, well, I just wanted to... I don't know... apologize, I guess. I didn't think. I would never want to make you uncomfortable and we will try to be more considerate in the future. We're just... not used to having to worry about people hearing us. So let's just move on and forget it." Before I can say anything, she interrupts me to point out where to turn.

It's probably best to change the subject. "So, I know I'm about to see, but tell me about where you work."

"At a coffee shop," she replies. "I've worked there since I moved here. The owner is really nice and has been pretty understanding and flexible with me when I have needed it. The tips are decent, too. And she'll work with my class schedule, which is great."

"Do you know if she has any job openings?" I ask hopefully. I really need to find something, because my savings will only last so long. Marcus only pays the bills that come from the college-- tuition, housing and meal plan-- as well as books. My car insurance, gas, basics like toiletries and clothes, and everything else is out of my own pocket.

Tris chews on her lower lip. "Not that I know of... this can be a hard time of year to find a job, it's too bad you didn't come and put in applications a few weeks ago. Still, it never hurts to ask." Tris points to a storefront, directing me to park and come inside with her.

A bell chimes as we enter the cafe. It's a cozy looking place, with a few regular small round tables and hard chairs, but mostly mismatched, overstuffed couches and armchairs arranged throughout the room. The walls are painted bold reds and purples, and the lighting isn't too bright or too dim. "Hang out for a second-- I'll have Tori come up and talk to you," Tris says before she walks away.

The girl behind the counter has three rings in her left eyebrow and her hair is dyed bright purple.  Tris greets her as she passes before she disappears to the back room. While I wait, I sip a water and look at the artwork on the walls while I wait for the owner. There are a variety of mediums from oil paintings to watercolor, but mostly photographs, and most are simply signed with the initials BGP.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" I turn toward the voice. The woman who has approached me is medium height and slender with slanted brown eyes and black hair streaked with silver. "I'm Tori. Tris says you're looking for a job."

I shake Tori's outstretched hand. "Thanks for meeting with me-- my name is Four."

"What would you like to drink?" Tori asks before adding, "on the house, of course." I ask for a black coffee and Tori calls our orders to Tris, who smiles at me encouragingly as I follow Tori to a small round table. Tris comes with our drinks as Tori and I make a bit of small talk.

"Well, Four," Tori says, "I don't have an opening right now." It feels like something inside me deflates-- I had my hopes up that it might be just this easy. "But I know people, so why don't you tell me about yourself. What do you like to do, hobbies, special skills?"

"Uh..." I mentally kick myself for stuttering. I won't impress anyone that way. "Well, I like to run... I speak Spanish pretty well... I have studied a variety of Martial Arts since I was in grade school... I--"

"My brother's boyfriend owns a Dojo," Tori interrupts, and I feel my heart rate pick up a bit-- working at a Dojo would be amazing! "He's hiring. Would you be interested in talking with him about a job?"

I'm practically falling over myself in gratitude. "Oh my God, yes,  _please_ , that would be amazing. Thank you so much, Tori!" I continue rambling my thanks as Tori chuckles while writing down a name and number on the back of a business card.

"His name is Amar," she says. "The Dojo is actually right across the street, so you could head over there now, and if he isn't busy I'm sure he will see you; otherwise, I wrote his number on the back of the card here. Tell him I sent you, and that you're a friend of Tris's." I smile and thank her again, and get up to leave-- I don't want to take up any more of Tori's time.

I'm about to turn and head to the door when she stops me. "So you're Eric's roommate? And I'm guessing Tris is staying there a lot?" I nod. Tori purses her lips and a crease appears between her eyebrows. "Well... I'm glad you're around. She can use a friend." Tori gives me a smile that doesn't reach her eyes before turning and disappearing down the hall to the back room again.

* * *

I watch the last fifteen minutes of the beginner kickboxing class that Amar is teaching when I enter the Dojo. He's a man in his mid-twenties with tan skin and shiny black hair tied back in a low ponytail. He isn't quite as tall as I am-- probably just shy of six feet, and his body is relatively compact, but his muscles are defined. His movements are fluid as he demonstrates kicks for his students, and as he corrects their technique he always has an encouraging smile. Even without actually having met him yet, I can tell that he is very likely an easygoing, good natured guy and I'd definitely like to try working for him.

After all his students leave, he approaches me with the same encouraging smile he gave his students and his hand outstretched. "Hi, I'm Amar Mendez."

"Four Eaton," I reply, shaking his hand firmly. "My friend Tris works for Tori across the street," I begin, gesturing vaguely toward the cafe. "I spoke with Tori this afternoon and when she found out that I have been studying various Martial Arts for years, she told me that she thought you might have a job opening here."

"She thought right," he agrees with a smile. "Come on back and show me what you've got."

Amar is as personable as I expected, and I had a great time sparring with him. He's a little better than me and I could certainly learn some things from him-- and intend to-- but we're not too far off in skill level. I don't have any experience as an instructor, so I will be more of an assistant for a few weeks, then when the new "year" starts in about a month, I will be teaching some of the classes on my own. It's an amazing opportunity, and I sure hope I don't screw it up.

My truck is still parked in front of Tori's cafe. I cross the street and put the key in the driver's door, but pause when I glance up and see Tris through the window, wiping down a counter. I really want to go talk to her, thank her for her help finding this job-- I just feel really anxious to tell her about it. I turn my attention back to what I was doing, unlock the door and hop into the truck. Christina will be leaving for work in an hour or so. If I want to tell her about my new job, I'll need to hurry and catch her.

I start the engine but check my phone before I put it in drive. One missed call... from Marcus. Damn. Well, I'm not going to let him rain on my parade; I'll call him back tomorrow, even though I know he will be angry with me for putting him off. What's he going to do, drive the two hours down here? Doubtful. I put the truck in reverse and back out of the space, then make my way back to the dormitory.

* * *

Christina's roommate, Zoe, answers their dorm room door. Zoe was on the cheerleading squad with Chris at our high school, and she and Christina both love shopping, so they've always been friendly with each other, though Zoe and I have never found more than a few words to say to one another.

"She's in her room," Zoe says, skipping any sort of pleasantries, and immediately goes back to the couch, where she is eating chow mein out of the take-out box and watching some chick-flick.

I knock lightly, but don't wait for an answer before opening the door to Christina's room.

"Hey, baby!" she greets me with a bright smile and a kiss. "Where've you been?"

"Oh, Tris needed a ride to work-- Eric was supposed to take her but he must have forgotten." Christina smiles as though she finds that amusing. But then Christina pipes up, "So now you are what, her Uber driver when her man leaves her in a bind?" Maybe Shauna and Marlene were right-- Christina doesn't seem to be taking Tris's presence very well. Still, I'm not going to tell Tris she can't sleep in Eric's room.

"Of course not, Chris. One time thing. But, I asked Tris's boss if they had any openings," I continue as Christina goes back to painting her toenails a neon pink. "They didn't, but it turns out she knew someone with a Dojo who is hiring."

"Dojo?" Chris asks with a puzzled look on her face. How has she dated me for a year without learning what a Dojo is?

"Uh... yeah, you know... a place where they teach martial arts?" She nods, still not making any eye contact. "So, anyway, the Dojo owner was available to meet with me, I went over to his place right then and talked to the guy, and he hired me! I start Monday."

"That's great, babe! I assume you are going to be taking me out to celebrate," Chris says as she screws the cap back on her nail polish. "Are you done talking, or is there anything else?" Christina says, her tone implying that she is done with the subject of my new job. I just nod that I am done and work to keep the frown off of my face.

Then she smiles. "So, Zoe and I went shopping today, let me show you what I got!" Apparently her new clothes are far more exciting than my new job.

I spend the next half hour in mind-numbing boredom as Christina shows me clothes and drones on about something bitchy that Zoe said. I finally tune back in when she mentions Tris.

"Marlene invited your new work friend to go shopping with us tomorrow. Maybe you can be her driver, if Eric forgets about her again." Chris says with a snarky smile.

I frown. "Come on, Christina. It was a one time ride, and more importantly, I got an amazing job out of it. And Tris and I will not be working together. I just met a contact through her, that's all." Somehow I don't think it would help right now to tell Chris I'll be working right across the street, so I keep that to myself.

"A one time thing, only if Eric doesn't forget about  _her_ again. What kind of name is 'Tris', anyway?" I roll my eyes; she does realize she's dating a guy whose name is a number, right? "Don't roll your eyes at me, Four. I just don't want my boyfriend letting some needy girl get too dependent on him. Maybe I'm just jealous, baby." Chris pouts and looks at me for reassurance. And of course, I give it to her.

I almost open my mouth and say that I like Tris as a person, but luckily, I catch myself in time, realizing that Chris probably would take that the wrong way. "I'm not sure what you have against her," I say carefully. "I haven't had any problems with her. She's nice. And you, my darling, have absolutely nothing to worry about. I mean, look at you, baby."

Chris rolls her eyes. "Whatever. And yes, I know what I look like, I have a mirror. I look good, and you'd better not forget that. Anyway, I have to get ready for work. You can stick around if you want?"

I don't really feel like hanging around here listening to more silly comments, so I just smile and shake my head. "No, I'll get out of your hair. Have a good night at work, babe," I say as I put on my shoes.

"Oh, I'm off tomorrow," Christina adds. "Maybe we could go out to celebrate like you promised? Then you could stay over..." She runs her nails up my chest.

I'd rather wait for my first paycheck to go out, but I could use some of my savings now that I'll have a way to replenish it-- I really should take her out on a date. "Can't wait, babe," I agree. I give her a chaste kiss before I leave, calling out a goodbye to Zoe, who completely ignores me, on my way out the door.

* * *

Just after I walk into the apartment, a chime from my phone, indicating that I have a text message, makes me jump. I groan as I walk straight into my room and bite my lip as I unlock my phone. I let out a sigh of relief when I see the text message-- just a photo from Uriah of a funny message on a readerboard.

I need to just get it over with and listen to Marcus's message. Clearly I will be anxious as long as I put it off. I hesitantly go to my voicemail and play the last message.

 _"Already ignoring me, are you, son? We can_ discuss _that when I see you in two weeks back here in Milwaukee for that business dinner. Don't forget that you may be away from home, but I still expect you to follow my rules. I do have friends on the faculty at your University. You had better not make a fool of me, Tobias."_

That was it. Same old Marcus... reminding me who pulls the strings. How to dress, what to eat, what time to be home at night, whether I can drink alcohol or not... Everytime I break one of his "rules" I get a knot in the pit of my stomach, a dull anxious feeling in the back of my mind.

I don't know how long I sit there before I call him back. I stare at the call log as I prepare myself. I'm hoping he won't answer and I can leave a message-- it will be much easier to get in all the necessary points that way: an apology, an excuse, accept Marcus's rules, and a polite exit. After four excruciatingly long rings, it goes to voicemail. "Hello, Father. I'm sorry I missed your call earlier; I was at a job interview. I received your message and I understand. Take care." I quickly hang up the phone as I sigh in relief. I'm glad now that I didn't wait for tomorrow-- Marcus is like a dark cloud that looms over my head, and I don't need that tonight.

A few minutes later, I hear the front door slam shut-- I bet that's Tris, and I wanted to tell her about the job, though I'm less excited than I was earlier. If my girlfriend barely reacted, why am I expecting Tris to care whether I got the job? But I will tell her anyway, and I definitely want to thank her for introducing me to Tori.

I frown when I find the living room empty and sigh as I put the Call of Duty game disk in the PS4. I'm just starting it up when Tris comes out of Eric's room. I guess she was just changing out of her work clothes-- now she's in ripped skinny jeans, a purple tank top and a gray hoodie, left unzipped.

"Oooh, I love this game," Tris says, grabbing the other controller and curling up on the couch next to me, twisted up like a pretzel again. "Oh hey, did you get to talk to Amar?" Tris's eyes are bright and focused on my own. She looks so genuinely interested, I'm a little surprised.

"Uh, yeah, I did," I reply, setting down the controller. "And... I got the job! Thank you for helping me with that, by the way."

Tris squeals in excitement. "Four, that is so awesome! You're welcome, of course-- it was nothing. When do you start?"

Tris asks me all about the interview and job details for a good fifteen minutes-- everything from when I start and what I thought of Amar, to questions about my past Martial Arts training and what age groups Amar plans to have me teach. Almost as soon as I told her I had the job, Tris was in the kitchen making celebratory Jack & Cokes and turning on an old Chili Peppers album, and we sit on either end the couch sipping them, our bodies angled toward each other, the tv screen still showing that the playstation is waiting for me to press start.

"I'm really kind of nervous about this whole... being an instructor thing," I admit. "I've never really  _taught_  anyone anything before."

Tris nods. "You'll be fine. I believe in you. You just have to be patient and remember what it was like when you didn't know anything."

"Have you taught anything before?" I ask. She seems pretty confident about her advice.

Tris's thumb brushes back and forth over the birds tattooed on her collarbone. "My mom was a teacher... third grade. She used to have me come in and teach her class art lessons. I even got to skip school sometimes to come help her." I remember her saying she was interested in art. I'm about to ask her more about it when I notice her frown, but she suddenly brightens up, like she's forcing a smile, and grabs the controller. "Come on, I wanna kick your ass already."

"You can try," I laugh as I pick up my own controller and start the game.


	6. Movie Night

_**Tris  
** _ __Late August_ _

I'm pretty sure that shopping is just about the most awkward thing possible for me to do with these girls. I really want to be friends with them, and I am so happy that Marlene invited me... but I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say about the fact that I'm pretty much just tagging along and not really buying anything. I'm not buying anything... because I have no extra money. Besides, when I do buy clothes, I usually shop at those cool second-hand stores-- the consignment type places that have all sorts of cool vintage stuff, as well as more recent styles. Vintage t-shirts are totally my thing.

The thing is, I don't have parents helping me with... anything. I'm on my own entirely, and I have been for years. I don't have spare cash and honestly, it doesn't bother me that I can't buy expensive clothes, because for years now, I've had much bigger things to worry about-- paying for the basic necessities of life. It's just kind of hard to explain it to these near-strangers when I am not ready to tell them all about my past yet. I don't want to see the pity looks that are bound to be just beneath the surface every day forward from the day they find out.

"Come on, Tris, these jeans would look great on you! You have to try them!" Christina chirps. I frown. The tag reads eighty dollars. It's really not in my price range... at all.

I stand frozen with my lips parted, the words I can't seem to come up with caught somewhere on the way to my conscious mind.

"Just let her be, Chris," Shauna scolds. "If she just wants to window shop, maybe you shouldn't push her."

I nod, thanking Shauna with my eyes. She squeezes my arm gently before moving on to the next rack. Christina scowls, but turns and starts shopping for herself once again.

"So, Tris," Marlene says as she pulls a loose, sheer top off a rack, "tell us what you like to do. It seems shopping isn't your first choice."

I laugh. "You're right, it isn't. Uh... I like music, and art... I am thinking I'd like to major in art, actually. Maybe go into art therapy? I'm not sure. I really enjoy photography."

"No way!" Shauna exclaims. "Mar and I love to go out and shoot photos. You should come with us!" Marlene nods eagerly. She always has such a bright, sweet, welcoming smile. She seems so genuine that it makes me trust her... and makes me nervous, all at the same time. I'm not used to people being as nice and inviting as she is.

"I would love that! How about you, Christina?" I ask politely. "Are you interested in photography?"

Christina's smile brightens. "Oh my gosh, yes! I love to have my picture taken. I want to try out for America's Next Top Model." I just smile-- that's not really what I meant, but that's OK. If I ever need a model, now I know who to ask. Shauna, Marlene and I continue to talk about going out to shoot photos, and they invite me to a photo club they've joined. I never thought to look for one before. I did join the school yearbook staff last year, though, and got a lot of photography and darkroom practice that way.

"Soooo..." Shauna drawls, "tell us about Eric, Tris." The other girls have been talking about their boyfriends, and I have learned things about Four that could make it a little awkward seeing him at the apartment later. I tried to just tune Christina out as much as possible.

"Tell... what exactly?" I ask nervously. Eric doesn't really like for me to talk about our relationship much. He prefers keep that between us. If I tell them much about him and Eric later finds out, he might be pretty mad at me. I hate it when he's angry with me.

Marlene laughs. "Well, he's pretty hot! Does he have any piercings we haven't seen? Is he good in bed?" I'm so not answering any of that. If my friends ever see him shirtless they'll know about his pierced nipples, but they really do not need to know about Eric's Prince Albert piercing.

"Uh..." I say nervously, blushing. "Eric and I... we prefer to keep our relationship... just between the two of us. I really shouldn't."

Christina smirks, and I'm not sure what she's thinking. Marlene looks disappointed. "Damn," Shauna says. "That's no fun. I thought we'd get to hear all the dirty details!" I look down. This is not going well. I really want to make friends, but it never seems to work out. "That's okay, though. We don't have to talk about you and Eric. I think it's great that you respect your relationship so much." The nervous knot in the pit of my stomach instantly unravels, and I whisper a thank you.

* * *

I pull my feet under me on the couch, my head resting against Eric's chest, his arm around my shoulders. We're having a movie night-- I've been looking forward to it for days. I just really wish Eric and I could spend more time like this, relaxed and happy with nowhere to be, more often.

Eric drinks his whiskey while I sip a beer. He poured the Jack Daniels straight into a tall glass-- I don't even want to guess how many shots are in there. I stretch out further and lay my head on a pillow in Eric's lap, and his fingers weave gently through my hair. "Mmm," I hum. "That feels really good, baby." Eric leans down and kisses my temple before sitting back up, guffawing at the movie, which I am barely paying attention to. I just want to enjoy this peaceful time with him.

We've been watching the movie for about forty minutes and Eric only has about a third of his glass left when Four comes out of his room with a backpack. "Later, guys," he says. "I'm going to Chris's for the night."

"Night, Four," I call before I close my eyes. Eric's hand has moved from my hair and is now running very lightly up and down my arm.

I begin to feel Eric fidget beneath me. After a few minutes, I sit up. "Want a refill?" His cup as almost completely empty. I don't really want to give him more alcohol-- he's had enough already-- but if I don't offer while I'm getting up, I don't know if he might get mad that I wasn't more considerate. He gets upset sometimes when he thinks I wasn't thinking of him enough.

"Yeah," he grunts. I pause waiting for a please that doesn't come, then get up to take his empty glass and my empty beer bottle to the kitchen. "Make some popcorn, too," he calls.

I nod. "Sure, I bought some the other day. I'll be back in a few minutes." He doesn't pause the movie, which is fine-- I wasn't really watching anyway.

I start the popcorn-- some generic store brand that was on sale-- in the microwave, then refill Eric's cup and pop open another bottle of beer for myself. The popcorn has a couple minutes left on the microwave timer, so I make a quick trip to the restroom while I wait.

Unfortunately, it seems the popcorn was closer to done than I realized, or I took much longer in the bathroom than I thought, or maybe it was both. Whatever caused it, I knew what had gone wrong the moment i stepped out of the bathroom, because there is no mistaking the smell of burnt popcorn. My stomach clenches remembering the last time I overcooked the popcorn.

_\------Memory------_

_I read the instructions on the popcorn bag, set the microwave for three minutes, and press start. There are a few dishes I could do while I'm waiting so I start toward the sink... and my foot lands in a puddle on the floor. I groan remembering that ice I dropped earlier... I must have missed a few pieces. Now my sock is wet. I hate soggy socks._

_The microwave timer reads two minutes forty seconds, and the popcorn has just begun to make popping sounds. I have plenty of time. I can just run into the bedroom and change my socks._

_Once I have dry socks on, I pause to pick up and fold the clothes Eric left scattered in crumpled heaps all over the floor, then I pull the sheets and quilt up on the bed, pausing for a moment to run my fingers over the soft fabric of the special quilt my mother made me. It's twin sized so it does not fit this bed, but I keep draped over the foot of the bed. I like to have it near me._

_I jump, startled, when I hear Eric's voice. "Tris? Where are you?!" he bellows. I scurry back to the kitchen, where he stands with his arms crossed over his chest and his face twisted into a scowl._

_"What the fuck, Beatrice?!" Oh shit. He's mad. Eric only calls me Beatrice when he's mad. He uses my real name, the name my parents called me most of my life, as a weapon, and it stings every time. "Why do you get distracted so easily? It's not that difficult to make a bag of popcorn. You just wait by the microwave for the popping to slow down. Now it smells like shit in here. This is disgusting. I'm going home."_

_Eric stalks straight for the front door, slamming it behind him as I drop the bag of burnt microwave popcorn in the trash. Every word echoes in my head. I shake my head in embarrassment. I can't even make a bag of popcorn right. So much for that nice, quiet night in we had planned._

_\------End Memory------_

My steps are about half their normal length as I shuffle into the kitchen with my head down. I pull out the popcorn and drop it on the counter. Eric has already paused his show and gotten up.  I bite my lip. "I burnt the popcorn," I squeak out. My head feels so light, like it could just float like a balloon, and I can't figure out how to relax my shoulders; they seem to be in a permanent shrug.

Eric just shrugs. "Just make another one, and stay by it this time. I'll go open a window," he says as he picks up the glass of whiskey I refilled a few minutes ago and walks toward a window. I let out a sigh of relief-- he didn't get upset with me this time.

I re-read the instructions before putting a new bag of popcorn into the microwave. This time, I stay right by it and listen the whole time, then when the popping noises are far enough apart, I open the microwave right away.

A minute later I sit down on the couch, setting the popcorn on the box I'm using as a coffee table, and lay back to sip my beer. After about a minute, Eric reaches for the popcorn and pauses, reading the bag and scowling. "What is this?" he asks.

"Wh-what?" I ask, bewildered. What did I do? What's wrong with it? I didn't burn it this time. He seems angry, and I don't know why.

"Are you joking? Do you not listen to me when I tell you things, Beatrice?" Oh shit. There's my full name again. "I reminded you only like a month ago that I like Orville Redenbacher. Apparently you didn't listen, or you just don't even think of me when you're picking things out at the grocery store. We've been together for two years, you should know what I like by now."

My eyes are wide and I bite my lip. "I-- I'm sorry," I whisper. "I forgot..." I honestly can't remember the conversation he's saying we had, at all. He sounds pretty sure that he said it, though. Maybe I really wasn't listening.

I'm not sure what to do... I never am sure what to do when he's mad. I don't know what he wants from me right now. I can never seem to get through the night without screwing up something. It wasn't like that at first-- at first he overlooked my mistakes. But after a while he started pointing them out more.

Eric sighs loudly as he opens the bag of popcorn. I pull my knees up to my chest and sit a few inches away from him, occasionally taking a few pieces of popcorn out of the bag to eat. It tastes fine to me, but apparently Eric disagrees-- throughout the whole movie, he makes comments like, "why would you waste your money on this shit?" and "I can hardly eat this, it's disgusting."

My whole being just wants to close in on itself. To become smaller. Smaller until I disappear entirely. I just need to shrink down to nothing. Because nothing is what I am. Nothing but a disappointment, nothing but a failure, nothing of any worth.

A different voice in my mind argues that it's just popcorn-- that it shouldn't be this big of a deal. But the voice telling me that I screwed up, that I failed yet again, is louder.

I want to find somewhere to hide so I can pretend that I don't mess up even the simplest little things, that I am not so selfish that I can't even remember my boyfriend's preferences while grocery shopping.

I want to escape to somewhere that I can forget that I'm always letting down the one person in this world who cares about me at all.

 _It's just popcorn, Tris,_ I tell myself.  _Don't overreact. He will be over it by the morning._ Until I do something else wrong, of course-- I'm sure to screw up again within a day or two.

My eyes burn with a familiar pressure and I struggle to hold back tears, and look away, trying to discreetly wipe them away without Eric seeing. But of course, he sees. " _What_  are you crying about?" he asks harshly.

"I-- I just feel like I do everything wrong, I'm sorry," I whimper.

Eric rolls his eyes. "Stop being so oversensitive, Tris."

Maybe I'm reading too much into his words. I'm never really sure. Sometimes, I feel like I'm not sure of anything anymore.


	7. Parties & Picnics

_**Four  
** _ _Early September_

The first week of classes, as well as my job at the Dojo, seems to drag on and fly by all at once. The days seemed long, but it felt like the weekend arrived again in no time at all. I spend most of Saturday assisting Amar in beginner and intermediate classes of varying martial arts disciplines, and I don't get off work until Chris is getting ready to leave for her closing shift.

As soon as I get home, I bring some clothes with me into the bathroom and take a quick shower. The mirror is fogged and the air humid when I enter the bathroom; I'm guessing Eric is also closing tonight and getting ready for work. After my shower, I pull on jeans and a black t-shirt before returning to my room for my socks and shoes, waving a goodbye to Eric as he pulls on his jacket and leaves for work.

So far, Eric and I haven't had any disagreements, but we haven't really 'connected' either. He seems pretty closed off and aloof, as am I, so we're probably unlikely to get to know each other very well.

Tris is a different story. It isn't like she's so open that she spills out her life story; in fact, I know virtually nothing about her past, just as she knows virtually nothing about mine. Somehow, though, our silences are always comfortable and our conversations never dull. I never have to rack my brain for something to say. It works out well, really, as Eric and Chris almost invariably work the same schedule. We even discovered partway through the week that we both run every morning, so now we run together. I enjoy having someone to run with, and Tris has shown me some better, more interesting routes to run, mostly through parks or along the lake shore.

My phone vibrates as I sit down on the couch, and I pull it out of my pocket to see that I have a text from Zeke, asking what I'm up to tonight. After a few quick texts back and forth we decide to go to a party; Zeke tells me to be at his place at 9:30 just as I hear the front door slam shut. When I look up, I do a double-take. Tris is soaked from head to toe. "Caught in a rainstorm when I was halfway home," she explains quickly as she toes off her shoes by the door and crosses to Eric's room, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. It's early September and still warm outside, even with the flash rainstorm she found herself in, but the dorm building is all air conditioned.

"I'll make you some hot chocolate," I say, noticing the goosebumps covering her arms. I wish I could offer her tea, but I have never thought to buy any and I haven't seen any in Eric's part of the cabinet.

Tris nods and flashes an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Four," she says, as she disappears into Eric's room. As the water boils, I hear the bathroom door shut and the shower turn on. I mix up two hot chocolates and leave hers on the counter, bringing mine into the living room and sipping it as I sit on the couch waiting for the PS4 to start up.

I'm engrossed in a car racing game when Tris curls up at the other end of the couch, her legs pulled under her, both hands wrapped around her mug of chocolate. When I finish the race I was on, I turn to her. "Won't Eric let you take his car to work so you don't get caught in storms like this?" I ask her, frowning. "I mean, I know the club he and Chris work for pays for them to Uber to and from work, since they often drink while there."

Tris shrugs. "We work different hours. He wouldn't have his car during the day if I took it."

If it were Christina walking home by herself no matter the weather, I would let her borrow my truck. Eric probably didn't even go anywhere. But I don't say anything about it. After a few minutes of silence I remember my plans for tonight. "I'm going out to a party tonight with my friends," I tell her. "You wanna come?"

Tris bites her lip, thinking about her answer, I guess, and I quickly turn back to the television and start another race. I keep my eyes on the tv when she answers, "OK, sure, I'll go. Thanks, Four."

* * *

The party is in a smallish house with peeling brown paint and a lawn that doesn't appear to have been watered all summer. The odors of alcohol and weed are overwhelming. It's crowded and the bass coming through the huge speakers vibrates through my body. I hate places like this. It's like it's closing in on me, there are just too many people, the room is too small, there isn't enough air. I close my eyes and try to breathe slowly. I'm not sure how long I do that before a small, warm hand slips into mine. I open my eyes just as I'm starting to be pulled through the crowds of people, and I see that it's Tris, pulling me to the back door.

I stumble after her down the two steps from the door to the yard. There are people out here, too, but it isn't crowded. Tris drops my hand and we both sit. I can still feel the pressure of her palm against mine, and I support myself with the brown, dead grass rough against my hands as I lean back and I focus on the texture; the way my skin remembers Tris's touch is a little unsettling and I need the distraction. I take a few deep breaths, quickly feeling much better.

"You looked like you needed to get out of there," Tris says apologetically. She doesn't need to feel bad about it, she did me a favor.

"Thanks," I say, not wanting to explain any further. I've been to parties before, but never one as packed full as this one, and this is one of those old houses where the rooms are small and the floorplan is anything but open.

In the opposite corner of the yard I can hear someone throwing up in the bushes-- they obviously overdid it with the alcohol. I'm glad I'm over here, too far away to smell it. "The first time I got drunk," Tris says, "was right after I moved to Chicago. I was at this party with Eric... I didn't know anyone yet, I had never had alcohol, never even been to a party-- that kind of party, anyway. Anyway, I had three hard lemonades... and then I puked. But Eric thought the whole thing was hilarious because apparently I kept smiling even while I had my head over the toilet." I bark out an abrupt laugh at the mental image of Tris smiling while she throws up. I've never seen anyone do that.

"Sounds like you were a good girl... before you met Eric," I tease, and she laughs. I wonder how much metal was in his face back then, and how much has attached itself more recently. "Were your parents pissed when you started dating him?" Honestly, I'm not sure  _I_ like her dating him, but it's really not my place to say anything. I'm not even sure why I have an opinion. He's not very attentive though, and Tris is really growing on me.

The mood instantly darkens. Neither of us have ever brought up our parents before, and I didn't realize it wasn't just  _me_  who didn't like to talk about the subject. But it was clearly the wrong thing to say. She's looking down in her lap and chewing on her lip, and all I want to do is rewind to before I asked her about her parents, I just want to take it back, but it's too late. I don't know what to say to bring her good mood back. I've rarely ever seen her look this dejected.

I need to change the subject; this is probably the most tension I've ever felt between the two of us. She told me a story from her past, so maybe it's my turn. She looks lost in thought, so I nudge her with my elbow to get her attention before launching into a story involving Zeke and Uriah, stolen farm animals, and the school principal.

* * *

Sunday is the one morning each week that I sleep in instead of going out for a run. I got home from that party at two in the morning, so it's almost noon by the time I finally get up. I smile remembering that I have a date with Christina today. I have a feeling that when she asked if I was going to take her out to celebrate my new job, she probably meant at an expensive restaurant, but that's not quite what I have in mind.

I shower quickly and pull on jeans and a dark gray t-shirt before heading downstairs to the dining hall. I pick out three sandwiches, some chips, a couple of bottles of water and some cake, grabbing a couple of to go boxes as I pay with my dining card. Across the room I spot Eric and Tris sitting at a table by themselves and make my way toward them. Eric is smiling and animated as he tells a story about some regular patron at the club last night, and Tris is laughing.

"Hey, Four! Wow, you must be hungry," Tris teases when I sit down across the table from them.

"Ha! Yeah, right," I say, unwrapping the one sandwich I plan to eat right now. "No, these are for a picnic with Christina."

Eric smirks, and I raise an eyebrow. He shrugs. "Christina isn't really a hang out in nature kind of girl, is she? She's more the high maintenance type." Something about his comment rubs me the wrong way, even if it's true. I guess they must talk a lot at work or something, but I feel like he's putting my girlfriend down.

"She's not  _that_  high maintenance," I argue, though I know I'm lying. Eric rolls his eyes as he tosses his crumpled napkin onto his empty plate. I'm irritated that he thinks he knows Chris so well. But then again, I've gotten to know Tris quite well, too, and with how  _low_  maintenance she is, it's no wonder Christina seems extreme to Eric. I shrug. "It's a nice day out and it's not like we're heading into the wilderness."

"If you say so, man," Eric laughs, grabbing Tris's hand and pulling her up alongside him. "Have a good time." Tris smiles and waves as she trails behind Eric out of the dining hall, glancing back at me once just before disappearing out the door.

I scarf down the rest of my sandwich in two bites before packing up the rest of the food in 'to go' containers and packing it all in a brown paper bag. I stop by my room for a blanket and backpack. Tris and Eric are playing a racing game on the PS4, and I'm relieved to see their laughter and easy banter; sometimes things seem tense between them, and it seems to really bring Tris down. I don't like to see her so unhappy.

As usual, Zoe answers Christina's door and directs me to Chris's room. She is finishing her make-up routine at the mirror that rests on top of her dresser. "Hey, babe!" she greets me. "Just a minute." I sit on the bed and wait, and after a minute she turns around and leans in for a kiss. Our lips meet, and the kiss is long and slow. My hand tangles in her hair and she pulls away. "If you don't want to wait while I fix my hair a second time, you should probably keep your hands out of it," she says with a smirk. I roll my eyes.

"Are you sure you want to wear a skirt?" I ask. "We're going to be outdoors." As usual, she's in a short skirt and heels. Chris frowns, but reluctantly opens a dresser drawer and digs through it until she finds a pair of white high-waisted shorts. I frown when she reaches to put the heels back on, and she sighs and rolls her eyes, but pulls out a pair of nearly flat heeled sandals that buckle at the ankle. I nod in approval-- that should work.

"Okay, ready!" Christina announces, and I sigh in relief-- usually it takes her forever to get ready. She must have actually started early enough today. I sling the backpack over one shoulder as she calls goodbye to Zoe, and reach for her hand as we step into the hallway. "So, where are we going?" she asks as we ride the elevator down to the ground floor. I hate elevators, I hate small spaces. I know I need to answer her but I just keep watching the reader screen count down the floor numbers as we descend. "Four?" she probes as the doors open.

"Sorry," I sigh as we step into the lobby and start toward the parking lot. "We are going on a picnic." I smile as I watch her face, and at first the corners of her lips turn down slightly-- maybe Eric was right, maybe this was a bad idea and I should have taken her to a movie or something. But then she smiles, and I realize it's for my benefit, but at least she's willing to try and have fun when it's something I would choose to do.

* * *

Christina and I haven't managed to see each other much over the past week; our schedules are pretty much opposite each other-- my classes are in the morning and hers in the afternoon; I work in the late afternoon and early evening, and she works late. We spend an hour slowly nibbling on our food and talking about our classes, movies we want to see, and telling funny stories; Zeke and Uriah usually star in mine, with all their crazy antics.

"It really is a nice day out," Christina admits. And it is. The sky is a cloudless blue, a light breeze rustles the leaves on the trees, it's warm but not too hot or too humid. Chris finishes her water and lays her head in my lap. "And it's nice having a day off together."

"Maybe we can keep our Sundays clear for a date, or to just hang out, each week," I suggest, gently running my fingers through her hair.

"What should we do next week?" Her eyes are closed and her face looks peaceful. I start to think of things Christina and I could do together, then remember Marcus's message from last weekend and groan.

"I have to go to Milwaukee next weekend," I admit. "My dad has some business thing and he wants me there." The word 'dad' tastes bitter on my tongue, but I don't like to talk about him, so I avoid calling him Marcus out loud, even to Christina.

Chris sighs. "Too bad. Maybe it will be nice to go home, see your dad, right?" I shrug. "What's your deal with him, anyway? You never seem to want to talk about him." Her gaze meets mine and she holds it there, not breaking eye contact, as she waits for me to respond.

Should I just tell her, tell her everything? She's only met my dad a twice, and only briefly, in the year we have been together, and I haven't even told her my real name. I know I should probably trust her enough by now, I should open up to her, but I feel like I just... can't. It could mess everything up. I don't think I can take her looking at me like I'm some kicked puppy. No, I can't tell her. Not yet, anyway. Even Zeke doesn't know.

I shrug. "We just don't get along well. That's all." She studies my face for a while and I try to look sincere-- Chris is good at noticing when someone isn't being truthful. I'm not sure she's entirely convinced, but after a moment I can see that she has let it go.

I change the subject. I'm afraid she might bring it back up. "Would you like to go for a walk by the lake?" Chris smiles and shrugs, then I pull her up and pack the blanket and leftovers in the backpack.

"So, how's work been?" I ask as we walk along the lake shore, hand in hand.

"Really fun, actually," Christina smiles. "I get to drink and dance a little, and chat with people-- you know how I love to talk! Oh, and the other day, there was this new dishwasher. Eric played the funniest prank on him! He gave him a plunger and told him to check for loose tiles, which wouldn't be that funny, except the fool spent over an hour trying to pull up tiles with a plunger before someone told him it was just a prank," she laughs. I smile and laugh with her, and push aside the slight uneasy feeling that gripped my stomach at the mention of Eric's name. I'm not usually the jealous type, so I'm not sure where that came from.

"Speaking of work," Chris says, "when are we going out to celebrate your new job?"

"Aren't we doing that now?" I reply. I knew it.

"Oh." She sounds disappointed. I wait to see if she will get over her apparent disappointment, and she seems to. "Sorry, Four, I just pictured something else-- a romantic restaurant. This is great, too, though!"

I smile and pull her against me. I kiss her softly, my hand at the small of her back. Christina wraps her arms around the back of my neck and kisses me back, soon deepening the kiss. Both my hands grip her hips and her fingers tug at my hair. We pull away when we need air.

"If we want to continue this, we should go somewhere more private," I suggest.

Chris nods. "My place?"

I smile and nod. "Let's go."


	8. Common Interests

_**Tris  
** _ __Mid-September_ _

The bark is rough against my palm. I climb one-handed, holding the camera to my chest with the other hand, so that it doesn't become damaged being knocked against a limb. It takes me a minute, some shifting and climbing from branch to branch, to find the right shot-- just the right angle, the light falling against the green apple in just the right way. I take several photos and when I am satisfied, I quickly climb down.

"Do you often do things like climb trees to take your photos?" Marlene asks, amused.

I shrug. "Sometimes. I go where inspiration leads me," I smile. "And," I add, "where the light is most interesting." I love the shadows tree leaves cast, the patches of light that shine through.

It's a Thursday afternoon, and I have the day off work. I'm spending the afternoon outside taking photos with Shauna and Marlene. We have been out taking photos around campus, eventually wandering to a nearby park, for a few hours now, as we all had only morning classes today. We invited Christina as well, but her classes are later in the day, and she said she had a study group to go to after her last class.

"I used to love climbing trees," Marlene sighs as I drop from the bottom branch. "I always wanted to have this amazing, huge treehouse."

"Do you remember the time we found those weird flat wood stakes or whatever they were in your parents garage?" Shauna grins.

"And we used  _ribbon_ , of all things, to  _tie_  them together trying to make a treehouse," Marlene giggles, and I can't help laughing.

"How do you make a treehouse out of stakes and ribbon?" I ask, confused.

Shauna snickers. "You don't. It was probably one of the dumbest ideas we ever had. We didn't have boards or access to nails and hammers so we  _tried_  to work with what we had."

"My brother and I built a treehouse when we were kids," I tell them, smiling at the memory. I really miss my brother sometimes. We got along pretty well as kids, but once he entered high school, Caleb seemed to completely lose interest in me. "It was more of a platform, really, but we took hammers and nails and boards... Caleb is older than me, but I had to keep correcting him, he was just terrible at it. He's more comfortable behind a microscope than hammering a nail." When Mom and Dad died nearly two years ago, Caleb was a year from completing his bachelor's degree, majoring in chemistry. He's probably in a doctoral program or something now. I wouldn't know. "But my favorite thing was to climb this tree that had a big sturdy branch that went over the middle of the stream near our house. I would climb up there and leap off of it into the deep part, in the middle of the stream."

"That sounds like fun!" Marlene says. "That's something I could see Uriah or Zeke doing. Maybe you can take us there sometime!"

I don't know if it would feel good to take my new friends to my hometown-- someone else lives in my old house now, but I could still go to the river-- or whether being there would be too painful for me to enjoy it. And I don't know if I can take them there without being bombarded with questions about my family, or whether I will be willing to talk to these people about what happened. A vague answer is probably best. "Maybe," I shrug.

"Are you still close with your brother?" Shauna asks.

"No," I answer. I know that in order to make friends, I need to open up, but I am just not ready to get into all that. Maybe someday. But this is exactly why Mar's suggestion that I take them all to my old home made me uneasy. I change the subject. "So... I've been wondering..." The girls look at me expectantly. "...what on earth is going on with our English lit professor's eye makeup?!"

Marlene bursts out laughing. "You should see it, Shauna. I have writing class with Tris and Four... the instructor's eyeliner is as black as those birds on Tris's collarbone, and it has got to be at  _least_  an eighth of an inch thick. It's bizarre looking. And then there's the ear-pulling..."

"You noticed that too?!" I exclaim. We launch into a hilarious discussion about weird teachers as we make our way back to the dormitory.

As we approach Eric's dorm, I feel a little nervous. I haven't ever brought friends back with me before, and it really isn't  _my_  apartment. These are Four's friends, though, so I'm sure he won't mind, and Eric said it was ok when I mentioned the possibility. He is at that study group with Christina, anyway-- they have a couple of classes together, I can't remember which one this is for.

"Remember that time," Shauna laughs as I turn the door handle, "that Four was making fun of the principal, Mr. Evans, and right as Four was really getting into it, Mr. Evans walked up right behind him?"

Marlene nearly doubles over laughing. "Mr. Evan's face turned so red, he looked like he might explode!"

"He looked constipated," Shauna chuckles.

"Yeah, yeah," Four cuts in, coming out of his room, presumably having heard our conversation. " _Your_  boyfriends started the whole thing, too.  _I_ just happened to join in at the wrong time! It's funny for you all-- you weren't the ones in detention for a week." He cringes and rubs the back of his neck. I swear he almost winces; I feel like I'm missing a part of this story, but Shauna and Marlene don't notice, so I let it go.

"Hey, Four," Marlene grins. "We've been out shooting photos with Trissy."

"Don't call me that!" I groan.

Shauna pokes my arm playfully as she walks past me to collapse onto the couch. "So you prefer Shortcake, then?"

"I think it's better than Trissy, at least," Four says with a grin. "Shortcake actually really suits you, Tris." I roll my eyes playfully.

"Okay, okay, enough of that," Marlene says. "Tris, you said you know how to edit the photos, right? Because Shauna and I, unfortunately, are clueless still with that part."

"We don't even have photoshop or anything on our computers," Shauna adds.

I smile. I really like these girls, and they seem to genuinely like me, too. I've never had friends like them before. It makes me really happy to be able to give something back to them. "Yeah, actually, I'm pretty good with the editing. I can teach you," I offer.

"I have some editing software on my laptop," Four pipes up. I look at him with my eyebrows raised and my head cocked a bit to the side; I didn't know he did anything with photos. "I have no idea how to use it," he adds. "When Marcus bought my computer for school, he got all the top-of-the-line package deals for the software." Why does he call his father Marcus? I have noticed that before, but it has always seemed like something he may not want to talk about. I could ask the girls, but I would not feel right digging around for information about Four; if it isn't something I can ask him, it's probably something he doesn't want people to know. "You can use it anytime, Tris. I think it's called Lightbox? Lightroom? Something like that."

I know what he's talking about, and it's much better than the software I own. The program he's talking about was out of my price range. "That would be so great, Four, thank you!" I beam at him, and he scratches the back of his neck again and looks away.

"It's no problem," he says. "I'll have to take the laptop with me to do my school work when I go home this weekend, but whenever the laptop is here, if I'm not already using it, feel free." He disappears into his room.

"Wow," Marlene says so quietly it's almost a whisper, her eyebrows raised. "Four's never that nice and helpful. That was... weird." I furrow my eyebrows. I've never known Four to be anything else but helpful and kind.

Four strides back into the room, laptop in hand. "Here, Tris," he says. "I'll set up a profile for you real quick so you can work without all my stuff cluttering up your folders. Then, I've gotta get ready for work."

"How's that going, by the way?" Shauna asks him. He tells her briefly about the classes he's been assisting with as he quickly sets up an account for me on his computer. When he's done, he pushes it toward me and I reach for it before he lets go. Our hands brush and it's like a shock of energy shoots through me where our skin touches. I feel a nervous flutter in my stomach. That was weird... my cheeks are a little warm and I hope he doesn't notice.

I smile in thanks. "When do you start teaching classes on your own?" I ask. "It must be coming up soon."

Four nods. "You always have a good memory, Tris. Yeah, next week." Shauna and Marlene have exchanged cameras and are looking through each other's photos from our outing today. He glances at them then trains his eyes back on me. "You have today off, then?"

I nod. "Yeah, but thanks again, for this." I motion to the laptop. "I owe you a free coffee sometime," I add.

Four smiles. "It was nothing, but still, I'll hold you to that," he says as he goes back to his room, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

The girls and I are still working on our photos when Eric comes home from study group to get ready for work. I'm really enjoying the programs on Four's computer-- I can do so much more with these than the older basic version of photoshop I have been using on my own laptop. Shauna and Marlene have been taking turns getting acquainted with my photoshop program, though, and are doing really well. Meanwhile, I have edited a photo for each of them on Four's laptop.

Marlene gushes over the work I did on her photo and checks out different features of the program while Shauna edits a photo of a bluejay on my laptop. Eric comes out of the bedroom in his usual black jeans and white button-up shirt, the top few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up, ready for work.

I wrap my arms around Eric, my head against his shoulder. I breathe him in as he places a light kiss on the top of my head. I frown. He smells different. I mean, he smells good... just different.

"New cologne?" I ask.

Eric pulls away from me. As he walks to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge, he says, "oh, yeah, do you like it? I just got it the other day."

His usual smell is comforting to me, and I am not thrilled with the change, but he still smells good and I'm sure I'll get used to it. "Sure, babe, it's nice."

He gulps down half the bottle of water then smiles at me. "Good."

I walk toward the kitchen. "How was you study group? Did you get a lot done?"

"It was fine," he shrugs. He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "How was your little photo thing with the girls?" Something about his question rubs me the wrong way, but I can't put my finger on it. I brush it aside.

"It was a lot of fun," I say. "Oh, I want to show you this picture I took of the fence by the--"

"Later, baby," he interrupts me. "I've got to meet Christina and get to work. We thought we may as well Uber together to and from work since we are on the same shift."

I'm a little disappointed that he won't take a minute to look at my picture, but maybe he really doesn't have a spare minute. I don't want to start some sort of conflict over something dumb. "Okay, I'll see you tonight, then," I tell him. He squeezes my butt as he kisses me goodbye, and when the door shuts, I turn back to the girls and blush when I see them smirking at me.

"Why don't we go get dinner before Shortcake here turns into a tomato?" Marlene suggests, laughing. I am pretty sure that comment only worked to darken my cheeks a few more shades. But the girls quickly pack up their things, and Shauna hooks her arm in mine as we walk down the hall toward the elevators. It's definitely nice to have friends.


	9. Milwaukee

_**Four** _   
_M_ _id-September_

 

 _"How has your family background impacted the way you see the world?"_ It's the first of three essay questions I must complete for this study abroad scholarship I'm applying for. I have been staring at the blank page for fifteen minutes, my mind blank. I don't have much positive to say about my 'family background', and while there is  _plenty_  of negative to choose from, I don't want to write about any of it. I guess I can find some way to spin my mother's death into something that prompted character growth or whatever. It makes me feel a little sick to think of using the loss of my mother to my financial advantage like this, but I'm certainly not going to write about Marcus.

I start to put pen to paper, still not sure where to start, when I'm saved by a knock at the door. I am not usually one to procrastinate, but this time, I'm happy to. When I open the door, Christina invites herself in, brushing past me.

"Hey, babe," she smiles as she sits down on a barstool at the kitchen counter. "Have time for an early dinner before I go to work?"

"A quick one," I agree. "I'm going to Milwaukee for the weekend, remember?"

She frowns. "Oh yeah, I forgot." She looks me up and down, and that frown doesn't go away. "You're not wearing  _that,_ are you?"

I look down at my clothes. I'm not sure what's bothering her; I'm just wearing black basketball shorts and a t-shirt, along with some running shoes. It's all clean, doesn't have any stains or look worn out, why is this a problem? It's just the dining hall! "Uh...  _yes,_ Christina, this is in fact what I am planning to wear. It's just the dining hall, can you chill out please?!" She's getting on my nerves. I get tired of how focused she is on her 'image'. As much as I didn't like Eric putting my girl down, if I'm being honest, he hit the nail on the head when he referred to her as high-maintenance.

Her eyes land on the application I was working on and her frown deepens as she looks it over. "What the hell is this?" she hisses.

What is she going on about now? "It's a scholarship application... is that not clear from the page's heading?" I say slowly.

Christina rolls her eyes. "Of course it is. It says it's for a study abroad program. You've already got it half filled out! What happened to our plan of staying in Chicago?!"

"Calm down, Chris, I--"

"Don't tell me to calm down, Four! How can you plan on just leaving me behind like this?! For what is it-- a whole year?! You know I can't go-- I have that internship all lined up, here in Chicago,  _like we talked about,_  and it's  _perfect!"_  Her cheeks are red and her fists are clenched. If a look could kill you, I'd be dead right now.

It's true that we talked about both staying in Chicago, but this opportunity hadn't come up at the time, and I really want it. My mother was from London; I have family there who I have never met, people who could tell me more about her. I was only nine years old when she died. "I have a lot of reasons for wanting this, Christina, and it's an amazing opportunity. I probably won't even get it, but can't you just be supportive of me?!" My voice is rising, I am almost yelling. "Fuck, Chris, can it not  _always_  be all about  _you_? Sometimes it gets a little old playing the supporting actor on the goddamn Christina Show!"

"Fuck you, Four!" she spits, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Forget that dinner and go on home to your daddy. I don't want to see your face any more this weekend anyway!" Her footsteps are heavy and loud on her way to the door, and when it slams behind her, my only regret is that I didn't get the satisfaction of kicking her out and slamming the door myself.

* * *

For the first hour of the drive, I was too irritated with Christina to really be bothered by my claustrophobia-- usually anytime I'm in the car more than twenty or thirty minutes, I start to feel suffocated by the enclosed space. I decide to stop and hang out at Starbucks for a while when I'm about thirty minutes away from Marcus's house-- it's never really felt like  _home_  to me, not since my mom died, at least. I need to stretch my legs, but I also want to put off seeing Marcus for as long as I can.

I play around with my phone as I sip my drink and pick at my coffee cake. I smile when a text from Tris pops up.  _Ms. Stout's makeup is even scarier when she goes out on a date. I may have nightmares._ She has attached a picture of our English Lit instructor and some guy sitting on a loveseat at Tori's cafe, and even discretely taken from some distance, I can't miss just how  _thick_  the jet black eyeliner is, and how severe the overdone blush and crimson lipstick are against Ms. Stout's pale skin. I let out a laugh, and people at the next table turn to look at me.

 _You just made me laugh so loud that half of the customers in this Starbucks turned to look at me,_ I respond.

She quickly texts back.  _Starbucks?! I feel betrayed._  I don't go out for coffee often, but when I do, I usually get it from Tris on my way into work.

 _Unless you can somehow teleport the cafe to Milwaukee, this is the option I'm stuck with today._ She responds to me one last time, telling me she can forgive me just this once and to have a great weekend.  _Great. Yeah, right. Not with Marcus around._

I can postpone my drive to my father's house a little longer. I decide to kill some time by checking my rather neglected social media sites. I have a facebook page, but I rarely ever open the app-- in fact, I am greeted by over ninety notifications. I ignore them and scroll down my newsfeed.

I don't get far before I come across some photos that make my eyes widen. Posted just minutes ago are selfies of my girlfriend in a skirt that barely covers her ass and a halter top that shows enough cleavage that it leaves very little to the imagination. Not only that, she is squeezing her boobs together with her arms and the photos already have dozens of "likes"... nearly all from  _guys._

I can feel my own pulse in my temples and I clench my jaw. I don't easily get jealous, and I wouldn't say that's quite what I am feeling right now, either. No, that isn't what this anger is about. It's just so disrespectful to  _me,_ her  _boyfriend,_ that she is showing her body off like that to all these random guys on her friends list! It's like she's trying to get the attention of every guy  _but_   _me_ \-- she knows I rarely look at facebook, so this certainly was not for my benefit. And now, tapping her profile and then looking through her photos, it seems that it isn't the first time she's posted photos like this. There are dozens of comments from guys, most of which Christina has 'liked', comments that a girl with a boyfriend should  _not_  be encouraging. Besides that... I doubt she is dressed like that and just staying in. Who is she trying to impress? I'm not even in the same state!

I don't even stop and think before I'm dialing her number.

"Hello, asshole," Christina's voice jeers. "I hope you're calling to apologize."

I think my already high blood pressure just doubled. "Apologize?! I have nothing to apologize for. If you mean earlier today, perhaps  _you_  should apologize for being too self-centered to support something I really want. But that isn't why I called." I hear her huff into the phone's microphone.

"I'm  _calling_ ," I growl, "to find out why the fuck you're posting photos like the ones I just saw on facebook for a hundred random guys who are not your  _boyfriend_  to look at, huh? You look like a slut! I'm sure you're going out to the club like that, too." I pause for a minute, but she seems to have been rendered speechless. "That's so damn disrespectful, Chris! What the fuck?!"

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Four," she hisses. "I like to look good. You don't seem to mind that any when  _you_  are with me."

"Yeah, well, I'm  _not_  with you tonight. You know what, Chris?" I retort. "I'm going to take the weekend to think about the future of our relationship. I'm done talking to you about it now. I don't need more of your bullshit before I see Marcus. Don't call me. I'll talk to you Monday." I hang up without waiting for her to respond, silence my phone, and shove my empty cup and such into a trash can as I stalk out of the coffee shop and back to my truck.

Back on the familiar streets of Milwaukee, I drive to Marcus's house as if on autopilot, brooding over Christina the whole time. Do I even want to be in a relationship with her any more? I asked her out in the first place not so much because we had anything in common-- we don't-- but mostly because everyone else had paired off, she was constantly trying to flirt with me, and it just seemed like I should give her a chance. Since then, it's always just been easier to not rock the boat.

But maybe I should stop going with what seems  _easier._  Christina is clingy, self-centered and a little stuck up at times, and we have nothing in common. But I need to be rational about this.

 _I need to calm down and think about this again in a few days,_  I think as I grab my backpack and walk up the front steps.  _When I'm so mad at her is not the best time to make a big decision._

I head into the kitchen and fill a glass with water. As I drink it, I glance at my phone and see a text message from Chris. Against my better judgment, I open the message.  _You said not to call you so I'm texting instead. That's allowed, right? I just wanted to say, sorry about the photos. I forgot how stiff and insecure you can be._

"Fuck you," I mutter under my breath as I turn off the screen.

"I thought you said you wouldn't forget the rules, son," the voice of my nightmares hisses from behind me. I feel my whole body stiffen. I'm just glad I didn't drop the drinking glass. "If you can't remember them at home, I doubt you do when you're away. Did you forget that I have friends at your university?"

"I'm sorry, sir," I quickly apologize. He can usually sense it when I am lying, no point trying to make something up. "I didn't forget. I just... was angry with someone and thought I was alone."

"You are on thin ice, Tobias," he warns, narrowing his eyes at me. I swallow hard, past the lump in my throat. "Now, go cut the grass before it gets too dark." He stalks away without another word.

* * *

Marcus kept me busy last night and all of this morning-- he must have saved up all the repairs, yard work and chores for my visit. It's early in the afternoon now; I just finished trimming the hedges.

I wipe my feet on the mat over and over, finally deciding to just take my shoes off on the porch and leave them there for now, before I enter the house. Marcus will be looking for any reason to get angry with me, because when doesn't he? So I must be sure to avoid tracking grass clippings and dirt onto his floor.

"Tobias!" Marcus bellows. Hesitantly, I follow his voice to the living room. The walls are gray, the wood floors, a dull brown. The room is plain: a couch, an armchair, a television. Marcus does not bother with decorations.

"Yes sir," I mumble, standing near the TV.

"Sit down," he commands. He is in sitting in the armchair; I sit cautiously on the couch, in the middle so I am not too near him but not so far away that it's obvious, perched on the edge so I can get up quickly if I need to. I recall that my mother had the same habit.

"One of my associates confirmed that you have stayed in all the classes that we discussed this past summer." I gulp. I wasn't sure before that he wasn't just lying about knowing people at the college, trying to sound more important than he is. That's something he would do. "How are your marks so far?"

"Uh, well, there have only been two weeks so far..." I stammer. "I only have had one test, and that was yesterday, so I don't have the grade on it yet. Otherwise, I have kept up with all my work and turned everything in early or on time."

Marcus nods, his face looks stern and serious. "You know I expect to see perfect marks at the end of the semester, perfect attendance--"

"--and that I only take the classes you approve. Yessir" I keep my eyes focused on a fixed point behind him. It helps to curb the anxiety that rises in me when I am around him.

"And have you been to any parties, drunk any alcohol?" he probes.

I have to lie, and pray that he can't tell. "No, sir." He narrows his eyes at me and I keep my face expressionless, and stop myself from wiping my sweaty palms on my shorts. When he moves on, apparently convinced of my honesty, and goes over the other rules. Marcus has rules for just about everything, too many rules to really ever be successful at following, but somehow I manage to make it through his interrogation without incurring his wrath.

We discuss my career path: he wants me to study law and eventually go into politics. I hate speaking in front of people, I hate having all the attention on me, so being a politician sounds like a nightmare. I'm not about to tell him that, though. The pre-law and criminal justice majors have very similar course requirements; I can get most of it in while still leaving myself either option.

 _Coward,_  a little voice in my head sneers.  _Letting your father run your whole life. Pathetic._

And then he moves on to my social life. More specifically, my love life.

"I hope you have dumped that mouthy tramp you've been seeing. I'm sure you have met more _appropriate_ young ladies you could court at the University." Every time Marcus refers to Christina this way, white hot rage courses through my veins and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. I clench my fists at my sides and grit my teeth.

"Why would I do that?" I retort.

Marcus chuckles. "I'm sure she's a real wildcat in the sack, but to look at her I'd guess you're not the only one who is enjoying her." I scowl at him. "I would be surprised if you were enough man for a tart like her."

"I'll date who I want for as long as I want to," I inform him in a low voice. He thinks he can tell me who to date? He controls enough of my life. "She is beautiful, fun, smart, friendly, and loyal."

Marcus scoffs. "She's an embarrassment."

"Don't talk about her," I growl, knowing I need to keep myself in check but seeming totally unable to rein myself in. I have to get out of here. "I'm going to take a shower," I mumble and rise from the couch, passing him on my way to the door.

Or, I would pass him, but he grabs my wrist tightly.

"I didn't dismiss you, boy," he sneers. His eyes remind me of the black pits I see them as in my nightmares, and I can hardly hear him over my heart pounding in my ears. "You used foul language yesterday, you lied to me earlier about drinking--"  _I thought he believed me. Shit!_ "--and now you are disrespecting me in my home."

His hands collide with my chest. I stumble back into the wall. Then he draws his hand back by his face to hit me, and I say, my throat tight with fear, "Your work party tonight, Dad!"

He pauses with his hand raised and I  _cower,_  shrinking back against the corner desk, my eyes blurry. He usually tries not to bruise my face, and if he does, he certainly cannot bring me to this work function-- an event he has probably already told his colleagues to expect to see me at.

He lowers his hand, and for a second I think the violence is over. I should know better. He unbuckles his belt, and I turn around, pulling off my shirt. There's no use trying to resist this, it will only feed his anger. So, like the coward I am-- as if I were still the little nine-year-old boy I was when I lost my mother-- I turn around with a shudder, and I clutch the edge of the desk hard with both hands. He will hit me with that belt again and again, and the stripes he carves into my back will be easily hidden by a shirt and an obedient expression.

I am not coming back here after this event tonight, I resolve. I will deal with the added pain of a fresh beating during my two hour drive back to Chicago, and I will go back to my dorm tonight. Then tomorrow, I will make things right with Christina. I will do what I must to work things out with her, I'll forgive everything, and I will hope that she does, too. I guess I can thank Marcus for one thing: his insults reminded me of all the things I  _do_ like about my girlfriend, and I won't give up that easily.  


	10. Coffee Break

**_Tris  
_ ** __Late September_ _

"Morning, Tris!" Marlene chirps, a bit too cheerily for my taste, as I slide into my usual seat next to her and behind Four in our English Lit classroom.

"Morning," I mumble as I rummage through my backpack for my books and a pen. When I look up, Four is completely turned around in his seat, his eyebrows raised at me. "What?" I ask, defensively.

He furrows his brow. "You okay?" he asks, and I see Marlene eyeing me with concern. "You just... you seemed happy this morning, and now you don't." I press my lips together in a straight line and shrug. He lowers his voice. "Eric?" He can read my answer in my eyes as soon as our gazes meet, and he frowns. I don't miss the look that passes between Four and Marlene.

Eric has always run hot and cold, but it's been worse than usual the last few weeks. He is drinking more often, and that's always when he is meanest. The rest of the time, though... well, he isn't the sweetest or most romantic guy I've met, but he has his moments, often enough, where he shows me that he cares for me. These past few weeks, Eric has put more effort into the romantic gestures; he has given me flowers twice, taken me out to dinner a couple of times, and accepted my music and movie choices without complaint on several occasions. He's usually quite stubborn about things like that, and I don't push back hard enough to get my way. It's just not worth creating conflict over something silly like that.

But as I said... he is coming home from work more drunk than he used to, and drinking more on his nights off. He often wakes me up when he stumbles in at three in the morning and makes it impossible for me to fall back to sleep until he finally passes out himself; the effects of interrupted sleep are catching up with me more and more, my thoughts feel jumbled all the time. He has never dealt well with any sort of perceived criticism, and lately, I can't seem to anticipate what he will take issue with. Most of the time, it's a simple misinterpretation, but his moods flip quickly and once he's upset, there's not much I can do but wait it out.

Most of the time, the mornings are fine. This morning, though, he had to get up early to deal with something at the DMV which he had put off too long to do at a more convenient time, now. So he was tired and irritable, and a teasing comment about his bedhead-- which I meant to be playful and even flirty-- led to glares and snarky comments from him. It's not so much that it was a terrible argument-- it wasn't. It's just... it all builds and builds and it becomes exhausting.

"It's fine, it's nothing," I say, finding a small smile to give them. "I'm just tired."

I'm not sure they believe me, but they let it go. Marlene and I chat for a few minutes until the instructor comes in to start class. She and I, and often Shauna, have been hanging out more lately. We take photos together a couple of times a week, had an at-home spa night at their dorm room, and Marlene and I decided on a whim to get piercings together last night. Christina usually seems to be busy or uninterested, though; it's too bad, I had hoped that she and I would get along well, with our boyfriends being roommates and all, but we really haven't connected-- I'm not sure she likes me at all.

Talking with Marlene improves my mood, and helps me forget about this morning's conflict with Eric by the time the lecture begins.

* * *

I glance around to make sure Tori isn't watching me and pull my phone out of my back pocket. I smile when I see a text from Four.   ** _Do you have a break coming up? Thought I'd come in for that coffee you promised me._**

Four is pretty quiet and reserved, and neither of us talk about anything too serious with each other, but somehow, we just... know each other. We understand each other, even if he doesn't know how I became who I am, and vice versa. After only a month, he's one of the best friends I have ever had. I doubt he appreciates me as much as I appreciate him. I'm nothing special.

I bite my lip. I'm not going to tell him not to come-- he is so generous to let me use his laptop for photo editing, and I don't want to seem like I am going back on my offer. This morning, though, he came right out and asked about whether Eric was getting me down, and... I just don't want to talk about it.

I shake my head. This is Four. He has never made me talk about anything I didn't want to, and he won't this time, either. Besides... he probably will stay five minutes and that will be it. We see one another plenty at the apartment.

 ** _Sure, whenever. We aren't very busy today,_** I reply. I pocket my phone and get on with my work, heading to the back room for the cups I need to restock.

For the next thirty minutes, every time the door chime sounds, my eyes are on the door to see who has entered the cafe, with me internally scolding myself every time. I am headed back to the counter after serving a latte to a middle-aged man with a combover-- he looks a little familiar, probably a professor at the university-- when I snap to attention at the chime again.

I don't understand the way my stomach drops like a rock-- maybe it's all the recent tension. I should be happy to see Eric here, it's been a long time since last visited me at work. But for some reason, I'm disappointed. I paste a smile to my face as I walk over to greet him. He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me a bit too sloppily, and I am blushing after, when I pull away from him and lean back against the counter.

"This is a nice surprise," I say. "What brings you by today?"

Eric smiles back-- a gentle smile, not the kind where it's too wide and pulls at the holes in his piercings. "I wanted to see you," he says simply. "Can you take a break?"

My heart drops to my stomach again-- I didn't directly say that I'd hang out with Four during my break, but I know it was implied. Still, I really can't blow off my boyfriend... for his roommate. "Sure, just let me check in with Tori first."

When I have talked with Tori and hung up my apron, I find Eric waiting for me in a small loveseat. I glance around, but still see no sign of Four. Maybe he's not coming. I push away my disappointment... or relief-- I'm not even sure what I feel. Eric may be even more erratic than usual lately, but he's trying, that much is clear, or else he wouldn't be here right now.

"Should we order something to drink? I have a half hour," I tell him.

Eric shakes his head. "I already ordered for us-- Lauren should be bringing it over soon." I thank him and sit down next to him; he drapes his arm over my shoulders. My stomach is rumbling, I wonder if he ordered anything to eat. I'm about to ask when I hear the door chime again. I instantly glance to the door. When I see Four, dressed for work, I bite my lip. Eric notices and and follows my gaze.

"What's Four doing here?" he asks me, a crease appearing between his eyebrows, just as Four makes eye contact with me. He notices Eric and raises his eyebrows. I feel frozen, I don't know how to respond, and I don't have time to think-- Four is already walking over to us.

"Uh... hey, Tris... Eric..." Four says. I give him a tight smile.

"What brings you here, Four?" Eric asks him. I can feel how his body tenses.

This is so awkward. Why is it so awkward? They live in the same apartment, I practically live there, too. I guess we rarely all three spend time together but still... "I told Four I owed him a coffee," I jump in. "Because he's been letting me use his computer. He has much better photo editing software than I have." Eric nods curtly but the tension doesn't dissipate. "Uh, tell me what you'd like, Four, I'll go make it," I offer.

As I make Four's drink, I keep glancing back at the guys. They both look unusually stiff. Watching them, it feels as though something is not right, like I have done something wrong, something that is causing things between these two roommates to be uncomfortable. And I know it's my friendship with Four that is that catalyst... at the same time, I can't imagine  _not_  staying friends with him, either. We aren't doing anything wrong, though. Eric will see that. He has to.

I hand Four his coffee with a smile. "Thanks, Tris," he says warmly, flashing me the boyish grin I'm so used to seeing from him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Eric frown.

"No, thank  _you,_ I've really been enjoying that software! I'd never be able to afford that on my own computer."

"It's nothing," he shrugs. He reaches into his bag for something as he says, "oh, Tris, I thought you might be hungry. When I was grabbing myself something from the dining hall to eat on my lunch break, I got you a sandwich."

He hands me a little clear to go box; inside is my favorite kind of sandwich-- turkey with bacon, swiss, tomatoes, and chipotle mayonnaise. "Thank you for thinking of me," I say as I accept the sandwich. I appreciate his thoughtfulness much more than I am showing, but Eric sitting there staring at us is making me really nervous.

Four nods, glancing at Eric quickly and then biting his lip. "I should be going. I'm teaching a class in fifteen minutes. See you later, guys." Four hurries out of the cafe, but the awkward feeling in the air is as thick as ever.

Four disappears out the door of the cafe, starting across the street toward the Dojo, and I look back to Eric. I sit down and begin to sip the coffee drink Lauren had delivered while I was behind the counter making something for Four and I open the box my sandwich is in. As I take a bite, Eric speaks up. "I didn't know Four worked right across the street." I just barely hear a hint of accusation in his voice. I internally roll my eyes. He works with Four's girlfriend, they even have nearly identical schedules each week. So what if Four works nearby? But I just nod.

Either I imagined the edge in Eric's voice, or he has decided to let it go. "Well, I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry about this morning," he says, and I feel tension disappear from my shoulders as I flash him a genuine smile. No, he isn't perfect, but no one is, and he admits it, at least some of the time. "I guess these tests I have coming up must be getting to me or something. I'm off tonight; what do you want to do?"

I set the rest of the sandwich down and turn toward my boyfriend to give him my full attention; I can finish the sandwich later, I have a ten minute break to squeeze into the last couple hours of my shift. "Hmm, I don't know. Maybe we could play a game or something?" I've always loved board games; Caleb and I used to play them all the time, though he always beat me. Eric and I tend to be more evenly matched. We don't play games together very often, but I usually have a good time when we do.

Eric nods and smiles at me. "Sure, whatever you want, babe," he says. Then he stands, grabbing his leather jacket off the arm of the loveseat. "I should let you finish eating and get back to work. I'll see you at home." He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, then heads out the door without glancing back.

* * *

When my shift is about to end, Four walks back into the cafe. I raise my eyebrows. "You know I only offered you  _one_  free coffee, right?" I joke.

Four gives me a lopsided smile. "Just one? Darn." As I take off my apron and walk to the time clock, his face turns more serious. "Hey, I actually wanted to talk to you for a minute."

I bite my lip. Eric is expecting me back. Then again, he is rarely concerned with what time I expect  _him_  to come home; I can give Four a few minutes to chat, though I'm not sure why we can't do this back at the apartment. "Okay," I say slowly. "How about a regular coffee? Tori won't make us pay for that." He nods, and once we have both added whatever milk and sugar we each like, we settle into a couple of overstuffed armchairs. "So... what's up?" Somewhere deep down I know what he wants to talk to me about, and it makes me want to get up right now and walk out the door.

"I wanted to talk to you about Eric." Yep. I knew it. "Look it's just... sometimes the way he talks to you... I worry. I see how you react. I have a feeling it's probably worse when I'm not around." I bite my lip and stare down into my coffee, while Four just sort of stares at me. Eventually he lets out a deep sigh.

"Tris..." he says, and I look up at him. Something about the look in his eyes takes me aback. I can't identify it, but I do know that he's being genuine. "You can talk to me, you know. There are a lot of people who care about you." I roll my eyes. Eric's the only person who has cared about me for years.

Four's fingers wrap around my chin, forcing me to look at him. "I mean it, Tris. We all care about you. Please just... talk to someone if things get to be too much, okay?"

I've just felt frozen, paralyzed, through this conversation. It's a lot like I feel when Eric is yelling at me though this situation could not be more different. But what does Four know?! He doesn't know what the last few years have been like for me. He doesn't know how much it has meant to me, having Eric be there, that he stuck around, that he has never left me. No matter how depressed or angry or irrational I have been, Eric has stuck around. It's not like Four and Christina's relationship is perfect; who is he to judge me?!

"I don't know why you think he's so awful, Four. It's none of your business. I don't need you getting in the middle of my relationship with my boyfriend. He's my  _family_ , Four. I don't give up on people that easily. Thanks for your concern, I guess, but I can handle myself. It's not like he's abusing me or something."

Four runs his hand over his face and looks down. "Not all abuse is physical, Tris. You're my friend. I'm only trying to help. But I'll stay out of it from now on." Four grabs his jacket and stands, leaving his half-empty cup of coffee on the table. He looks at me and pauses. I think he's about to say something, but he doesn't. He just turns and walks out.

* * *

I get back to the apartment an hour later than planned. After Four left, I took a longer route home, I just needed to clear my head before I saw Eric. I can't seem to decide how I feel about what Four said; it's like I am having an argument in my head. One side keeps telling me that it's none of his business, that he has no right to judge us, that he's exaggerating. Then another side of me rolls its eyes and reasons that he really is just being a friend-- that he cares for me and wants me to be happy.

He doesn't know about my life. He doesn't know about my family.

But he doesn't know, because I haven't told him.

The Dauntless building comes into view; I've been walking long enough. Forget Four, I'm going to go in and enjoy my evening with my boyfriend.

When I walk into Eric's apartment, though, he glares at me. "Where have  _you_  been?" he demands.

"Walking," I say simply.

"You were supposed to be back an hour ago."

I sigh. "I just needed a few minutes to clear my head, that's all." Eric scowls. "What's your problem, Eric?" I snap, the words flying out of my mouth before I have time to think about what I'm saying and the way I am saying it. I'm usually good about thinking before I speak, but my 'discussion' with Four left me flustered and short.

His eyes turn cold instantly. Well, they already were... but now they are colder. But for the first time, it doesn't intimidate me. I don't care if he yells at me. I just... don't... care. Not today.

"What the fuck is up with you lately, Beatrice?" he growls. "Where are you going all the time? It seems like I'm always coming home and you aren't here, and you don't text or call to let me know you have plans. Just how much do you think I'll put up with?"

"Put up with?!" My voice is sharp, maybe the sharpest tone I've used with him. "Fuck, Eric!  _Before_  I didn't  _have_  friends, I didn't go  _do_ things. Of course you always fucking knew where I was! What is your problem?! It's not like I'm doing anything wrong, and if you just texted me to ask, I'd answer and tell you what I'm doing. So what if i am taking photos with my friends, or hanging out with Mar and Shauna?"

"It's not just them and you know it, Tris. I've seen you with those  _guys_ , too. And when you go for runs, what are you doing for so long?! You don't seem very committed to me and this relationship any more. You never ask me before you make plans."

My mouth drops open.  _Ask him?_ Is he seriously telling me I should be asking his fucking  _permission_  to make plans with my girlfriends? So what if I hang out with Zeke and Uriah? I've done so without at least one of their girlfriends only once! They're my friends. Why shouldn't I spend time with them?

I storm into the bedroom to change out of my work clothes and he follows me.

"First of all, Eric," I hiss, "when have you ever asked for  _my_  approval before making plans, huh? It goes both ways, asshole." I pull off my coffee-stained top and am walking to the dresser to pull out a t-shirt. Eric grabs first one arm, then the other, making me face him. He's staring at my belly.

"When the fuck did you get that?!" He points at my belly button ring.

"Yesterday."

"And you didn't think you should ask what I thought about it?" Is he for real?! My mouth literally drops open.

"You have twenty-one piercings, twelve of which you have gotten since we started dating, and you have never  _once_  asked for my opinion on the matter, Eric. Did you ask me before you pierced your dick?! No. And that is a decision that arguably affects  _me,_ that if either of us should have an opinion--"

"You love that piercing!" he interrupts, waving his arms wildly.

I groan in frustration, then continue. "That's beside the point! You can't be seriously telling me that you have a problem with a damn bellybutton piercing." He scowls. "I don't see how it is  _any_ of your fucking business that I chose to get my bellybutton pierced. You are such a fucking hypocrite!"

"I think you should shut your smart fucking mouth about now, Beatrice." His tone is quiet, controlled, and dangerous. I don't care.

"I don't  _belong_  to you, Eric. I'm not your fucking  _possession._  I--" That's as far as I get. I have never stood up to Eric like this before, and I really don't know what has come over me, but he is absolutely furious. His gray eyes are stone cold. He takes a few steps forward, so that he's now just inches from me, and stands with his back straight, glaring down at me. That familiar feeling of wanting to cave in on myself, to shrink until I am invisible, is creeping in. My whole body tenses, as though he has turned me to stone. My neck begins to ache slightly from the tension.

"Enough, Beatrice. Stop being such a bitch! Do you want to break up? Is that what you want? I've been here for you through all your bullshit for the last two years, Tris, and I think I deserve better than all this shit you're giving me now. I let you fucking live in my dorm room with me, I've been there for you while you had _no one._  Your own goddamn brother doesn't want a thing to do with you. Now you  _finally_  make a few friends and you're just ready to tell me to fuck off, huh? That's pretty cold, Tris. So if you want to end this, fine. Have fun living with Molly." I stand with my mouth hanging open, I don't know what to say. Everything he just said is true. Fuck... I really am being a bitch.

Eric chews on one of his lip rings and runs his fingers through his hair. "I'm going to study group," he mumbles as he slings his backpack over his shoulder. Study group? I thought he didn't have any plans tonight? I thought we were going to hang out? And now he has a study group to be at? He wasn't planning to go to a study group. Of course he wants to get away from me. He'd probably rather sit in the library all night than stay here in this apartment with me for one more minute, with the way I'm treating him. I search my brain for the right words, a quick but effective apology, but the words don't form quickly enough.

"I hope you'll either have gotten the hell out of my apartment," he hisses, "or decided to stop being such an ungrateful bitch, by the time I get back." I stare after him in shock as the door slams behind him.


	11. Guilt & Grief

_**Four**   
_ _Late September_

Last night, Tris was nowhere to be seen. I had spent some time with Zeke and Uriah before coming back to the apartment. I figured Tris would be here, but she and Eric were nowhere to be seen. Eric showed up about an hour after I did, stumbling around making plenty of noise, obviously drunk, but no Tris. I wasn't sure what to think-- Tris hasn't slept somewhere else in the entire time I have lived here. It was hard to fall asleep, I just felt guilty-- maybe she didn't want to be here because of  _me._  I didn't want to upset her, I just wanted her to know I was there for her.

She didn't show up for our run this morning, and I didn't see her in the dining hall at breakfast. Guilt made my stomach churn like a boat in a storm at high sea. I didn't mean to drive her away. After my classes, I shut myself in my bedroom, passing out on my bed for a few hours.

Now, I have just woken, it is mid-afternoon. I hear voices, neither of them Tris's, still. It's Eric and someone else. Another guy.

"Where  _is_  Tris, anyway?" the other guy says. I've heard the voice before; after a moment of searching my mind, I remember that the voice I hear belongs to Eric's friend Peter. I don't know much about him, other than that Tris can't stand him. Regardless, I listen in on the conversation; I want to know what happened, too. I need to know that I didn't upset her so much that I drove her off.

"I don't know, man. I fucked up. I assume she went back to her room last night." Eric.

"With Molly? Damn." She hates Molly.  _Hates_  her. Whatever happened between Eric and Tris must have been bad-- so bad that I have to doubt whether they are even still together. "What happened?"

Eric sighs. "I just yelled at her, walked out even though we were  _supposed_  to have a nice night. Basically told her to either stop being a bitch or leave. She called me a hypocrite, and she was probably right. I don't like how different it is here... before, I mean... you remember how it was in high school. It was just her and me-- well, and you guys, but for her there was only me. Here she's got all these  _friends._  It's all just... different."

"Yeah, things definitely seem to have changed."  _He feels threatened,_  I realize.  _He used to have control of her and now... he doesn't, not in the same way._

I hear Eric groan. "What am I gonna do? I don't know why I act like this with her. She just... she just makes me so  _mad_  sometimes." I stiffen. He had better not have hurt her. "She came home late, and there was  _Four_  at the coffee shop... he brought her goddamn favorite sandwich. Why can't I come up with shit like that? He's with  _Christina..._ " he hisses her name and it tugs at me, some nervous feeling that I can't quite identify. Peter chuckles. "Yeah, I know. But then he comes around and acts like he's a better boyfriend to  _Tris_  than I am."

"That's gotta suck." Eric groans again. "Look, dude," Peter's voice-- clear, higher than most guys our age. "Just like... say sorry. Get her some flowers, get her favorite meal and take her out on a picnic or something. Tris loves simple shit like that, right? She'd probably think you're being thoughtful or some shit." A pause. "That had to be a nice change after your last girlfriend." Eric laughs. I guess he's dealt with high-maintenance before, too. No wonder he had some comments about Chris.

"Tris is definitely the easier one to manage. Thanks for the advice, man," Eric says, and they move on to talking about tomorrow's Cubs game.

* * *

Tris is there when I get up the next morning, and we leave for our run without a single word to one another. It is not until we are halfway through the run, taking a short break by the shore of Lake Michigan, that I speak. "So, you weren't around last night, or the night before, but this morning when I get up, here you are..."

Tris shrugs. "I don't really want to talk about what happened. But I had decided i wanted some space and went to my dorm room. The first night was alright, other than the glares from my  _lovely_  roommate. But then  _last_  night... well... I don't want to get into details. All I will say is that Molly and Drew-- her boyfriend-- were doing things on my bed that..." she shudders, and I get the feeling it wasn't just your run-of-the-mill 'vanilla' sex. I don't press for details.

I want to tell her again that she can talk to me... that I'll be here for her. But I remember our fight two nights ago, and I keep my mouth shut as we start back out to finish our morning run.

* * *

Later that morning, I am getting ready to teach my regular Saturday classes at the Dojo. Other than that little bit we talked by the lake this morning, Tris was unusually quiet. Something is really bothering her, I can feel it. I'm relieved that she did talk to me a little, though; things didn't go so well when I tried to talk to her at the coffee shop a couple nights ago, so I can only hope that she isn't still upset with me.

Tris is nearly shouting in the next room. "What is so important that you have to do?!  _Please,_  Eric. You don't even have to come with me, just let me borrow your car, that's all I am asking!"

Tris is begging Eric to drive her somewhere or let him borrow his car-- she seems completely desperate to go someplace-- and I have no idea what his problem is, but he won't do it. He's kind of an asshole, so that's probably the only reason there is. Sometimes, honestly, he reminds me of Marcus, and sometimes I have concerns about the impact he has on her emotionally. Things seem especially tense between them this morning. I know he must have apologized and acted sweet with her, but now, it seems, he is just about back to his usual self.

"Tris, no. You can go some other day. You should have reminded me sooner that this was coming up," I hear Eric say as I come out of my room. "I'm going to the game with Peter and I'm taking my car. His is in the shop and I'm not gonna bail on my friend." I see her say something else to her in a low voice I can't hear and it's as though she completely deflates. I wish I knew what he said to her. I have heard him be pretty cruel in the past but sometimes I see exchanges just like this, where he says something intentionally too quiet for anyone but Tris to hear, and then her reaction... it just kills me. Why doesn't she see it?

Tris's head drops like she's staring at her shoes, but I see her wipe her eyes as Eric stalks out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him, without so much as a goodbye.

"Tris?" I say cautiously. "Are you okay?"

She wipes her eyes one more time and I can hear that she is trying to hide the strain in her voice. "Yeah, of course. I'm fine, Four," she says with a forced smile.

Seeing her like this is breaking my heart, somehow I can just feel that she  _needs_  to do whatever it is she had planned today. "Look... I don't know what it is you need to do today but it sounds like it's important. I'll be done teaching at eleven this morning, I'm supposed to assist in a class this afternoon but I'm sure Amar will let me out of it," I tell her. "I can take you... wherever it is that you're needing to go."

I probably should be trying to spend a part of my day with Chris; I was impressed at how quickly and easily she made up after our arguments a few weeks ago. The last few days, though, for some reason, I feel like I am having trouble remembering why I was so determined to stay together with her. Maybe it's just one of those things couples go through, where we just feel kind of disconnected for a while and need a little time to get back on track. Regardless... I can't seem to talk myself into making my girlfriend the priority over my friend today.

Tris stares at me for a minute, biting her lip and studying my face. It's obvious that she's reluctant to take me up on my offer, and I don't know why. Maybe it's still because of our argument the other day. Whatever it is she was thinking, though, she seems to come to a decision. With a matter-of-fact nod of her head, she answers me. "Okay. Thank you, Four. Really. It means a lot."

"It's no problem, Tris." I pull on my hoodie and grab my keys from the counter. "I'll see you a little after eleven, then?"

"Yeah... I'll be here." She still sounds sad. I just nod at her as I leave.

* * *

Tris navigates while I drive. Our destination, it turns out, is her hometown, which is about an hour away. When she first directs me into town and has me stop at a florist. I wait in the car while she goes in, and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. Either we are bringing flowers to someone, but then I would think she would tell me... or...

I feel every muscle tense when, as Tris comes out of the flower shop, a guy grabs her arm. I can see by her face that she is upset. Not scared exactly... I can't quite place exactly what emotion she is feeling, but it's clear that she wants out of this situation. I get out of the truck as quickly as I can, heading immediately toward Tris.

"C'mon, Beatrice, it's been such a long time! It wasn't  _my_  fault. Just come have some fun with us, I'm meeting Jeremy and Owen," the guy, who looks about our age, says, gripping her arm as her opposite hand wraps around his wrist trying to pry him off.

"I told you, Robert, I'm not interested. I don't want to see you." Her voice is cold and hard, but I can see it in her eyes, she's ready to just fall apart. I don't know what is going on with her, but there's definitely something. I just hope she trusts me enough to talk about it.

"Hey!" I shout as I approach. "She said to leave her alone. Are you deaf?!"

Tris looks at me with tears in her eyes as the guy, Robert, lets go and holds his hands up in surrender. "Fine... fine... I'll go. But don't be a stranger, Bea." He winks at her and I see her shudder.

"Tris, are you okay?" I ask gently. "Did he hurt you?"

She shakes her head. "No, he didn't. I will be fine. Let's just... let's just go." Her eyes are filled with tears. I can't stand seeing her this way.

I just nod and we make our way back to the car. "Where to, now?"

Tris still doesn't answer, she just gets in the car and with a shaky breath begins to direct me to our next location.

I take a deep breath and say what I have wanted to say all day. I can't stand this tension between me and Tris. She has become one of my closest friends and I only wanted to help her, not make her feel like she can't talk to me. "Look, Tris, I'm sorry about that day at the cafe. I was just trying to look out for you," I say. "But I can see now... it's none of my business. So just... if you need to talk, I'm here, and otherwise, I'll stay out of it."

She is staring out the window, and she doesn't look at me. "It's fine, Four. I know you meant well. And things have been less than perfect with Eric lately anyhow. Anyway... I can't worry about that today. Thank you for, you know, for this. The ride and all." I just nod, and we make the rest of the drive in silence.

Five minutes later we pull up exactly where I was afraid we were going: the cemetery. "An anniversary of someone's death?" I murmur as we sit in the car with the engine off, just staring out at the grass-covered hills and rows and rows of headstones. Tris nods. "Do you want me to come with you?" I offer. It takes longer for her to respond this time, but eventually, she nods.

I follow her to a headstone near the back of the cemetery. It isn't until we are there that I realize that she has not one, but two bouquets. She places them at two headstones that sit side by side and sits down on the grass a yard back from them, in the space between where the two caskets must be buried under the ground. Her arms are wrapped around her legs, her knees pulled up to her chest so that her chin can rest on them. For a few minutes she doesn't say anything.

I study the headstones while I wait to see if she will speak. The one on the right reads, 

_Natalie Grace Prior_  
_February 8, 1972 - September 24, 2014  
_ _Always loving, always loved._

And the one to its left reads,

_Andrew Nathaniel Prior_  
__April 3, 1970 - September 24, 2014  
_ _Absent from the body, present with the Lord._ _

My heart sinks. How did I know so little about this girl? I have never wanted to push her to tell me anything about her past. I always have told myself I was just respecting her privacy, but I know the truth-- I don't want her to ask about  _my_  past, I don't want to lie to her and I don't want to tell her the truth, either, so it has been easier just to avoid it. I see her shoulders begin to shake with sobs and I realize... she needed someone. She still does, she  _needs_  someone to talk to about this. And I can bet that Eric is basically useless when it comes to offering the support she needs.

I have lost a parent... so I would know.

I sink down to sit next to Tris on the grass and I wrap an arm around her back, and she tilts her head to rest it on my shoulder. If Christina could see us right now she would probably be mad, but I don't care. Tris is my friend, today is the two year anniversary of what I can only assume was the death of both her parents, and she needs someone, she needs a friend.

Maybe the contact is what she needed, maybe she needed to borrow someone else's strength, because at my touch, her sobs quiet and after a moment she begins to speak.

"Hi, Mom... Dad..." She swallows hard. "I miss you. I don't know if you can see what I'm up to from up there... or if that's even what people want to spend their time doing in Heaven, if they can. I don't know what it's like up there, would you want to spend your time sitting around watching what the people you left behind are up to? I really don't know. But I guess I'll fill you in, either way.

"I started college. It's going pretty well, I hope you would be proud. I'm not really positive what I want to major in yet, but I am taking a lot of art classes, especially photography. I know that's really what I  _want_  to do, I'm not sure if it's a wise career choice, though. I wish you were here to talk to about it."

I find my thumb lightly rubbing up and down on her upper arm. But it seems to be calming her, so I continue. I think she has a brother... I wonder where he is? Will he come visit them today?

"Um, I'm still dating Eric, I told you about him when I came last year, remember?" She sounds so lost and defeated. I wonder what my mother would think of Christina. If I wanted her to, would Chris come with me to my mother's grave? I have no doubt that Tris would. "So, we're together still... I don't know, I don't know if you'd like him. But he sticks around. At least someone does." Is Eric really all she has? "Oh, and I brought my friend with me, his name is Four." Something about her 'introducing' me to her dead parents by my nickname makes me flinch. I wonder what my real name would sound like from her lips? "He's Eric's roommate and he's a really good guy. I don't know what I'd do without him, he's the one who brought me here today." She looks at me and I smile at her sadly.

I clear my throat. "Hi Mr. Prior, Mrs. Prior. I'm Four, your daughter just mentioned me. It's nice to meet you, though I wish the circumstance could have been... better. Um, I just want you to know, you raised an amazing girl. She's responsible, fun, and caring... smart and brave... beautiful. I know you'd be proud of her." She had stopped crying, but now tears are streaming down her face again. She mouths,  _thank you,_ and leans her head back on my shoulder.

* * *

We stayed for another half hour. Sometimes Tris would just sit there silently, but then she would speak up again and tell an anecdote about her life. She talked about her classes, Eric, me, our other friends, her job and her boss... It's clear that she misses them desperately, but there is something else there, too.

When we get back in the truck, I don't move to turn it on. We just sit for a moment in silence.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, before we got here," Tris says. "I just... I don't talk about it. It's so hard to say the words still."

I nod. I understand. I don't talk about my family, either. "So, you were sixteen?" She nods. I hesitate before asking, but I know she needs to talk more about this, even if it's uncomfortable. I won't force her Cto again, but today, she needs to acknowledge reality. "What happened? You don't have to share if you really don't want to, but maybe it would be good to talk about it."

Silent tears begin to flow, and she wipes them away with her palms. "Um... remember that guy from outside the florist?" I nod. "Well, he had asked me out, he wanted me to sneak out late at night and come to this bonfire thing with him. It was the first time anyone had asked me out and I wanted to go so badly, but I knew my dad would say no."

She had never been asked out until she was sixteen years old? That's hard to believe... she's so beautiful and perfect.  _Snap out of it, Tobias, not the point of this story. Focus._  I nod to encourage her to continue.

"So I decided to sneak out." Okay... every teenager does that at some point, right? "But... being stupid and sixteen and naive, I didn't lock the door. I guess that while I was gone... someone broke into the house. When I came home, there was blood everywhere, and my parents were dead." I feel sick to my stomach. I know Tris well enough to guess where she has placed all the blame... on herself. I don't have to wait for confirmation; with a pained gasp-turned-sob, she cries out, "It's all my fault! They are dead because of  _me_! All because I was stupid and selfish."

I reach out and pull her to me and wrap my arms around her, shaking my head. "You made a mistake. Tris, it isn't your  _fault_. Should you have locked the door? Yes. But someone who is sneaking around houses in the middle of the night and even trying to open the door... well, they wanted to get in. They would have found a way."

She leans into me, resting her head against my neck, and just shrugs. Maybe someday, I will convince her. I know today is not that day.

"So then what happened? Where did you go? Did you have family that took you in-- is that how you ended up in Chicago?"

She shakes her head. "Sort of, but not exactly," she answers. "My brother, Caleb, took the quarter off of school... he was in college in New York. He found a place to stay for a while in Chicago, that's how I ended up there. The house my family lived in here was a rental, and after the burial and paying off bills there wasn't any money left, really. My dad worked for the church; we never had much. But Caleb... well, I guess he blames me, too. He took custody of me for a little while and stuck around long enough for me to be legally emancipated, but as soon as that was done, he was back to New York. Hasn't spoken to me since. He even changed his number."

I sigh. I know she wouldn't want pity, and I don't give her any. "Caleb is an ass, Tris," I say. "It wasn't your fault. You were just being a teenager." It makes me sick to my stomach realizing that Eric is literally the only person she has had stick by her through all this. "He's weak, Tris. You are strong. You've been through so much and you're amazing. I meant what I said to your parents."

Even with her eyes red and tears streaking her face, she's just so beautiful. I don't realize that I am leaning in toward her until my lips are brushing hers. Every thought falls from my mind except Tris and the way it feels to hold her, the way her lips feel against mine. One of her hands rests on my chest and the other cups the back of my neck as she kisses me back. We pull away for a fraction of a second and I need her lips on mine, I kiss her harder. One of my hands is on her back and the other at her waist, and my hand brushes against the skin of her back, under her shirt.

Near us a car door slams, startling us both to our senses.

Tris scrambles away from me, her cheeks turning bright pink, and even the tips of my ears are so hot, I feel like they're on fire. "I'm sorry," we both blurt.  _Shit._  Christina would flip, I don't even want to guess how Eric would react...

"Tris, can we just... forget this happened? I don't think it's a good idea to tell Chris or Eric about this little... moment we just had. I don't know what I was thinking."

Tris bites her lip.  _That lip is so soft... I just want to bite it. Stop it, Tobias! You have a girlfriend... and she has a boyfriend._  "I honestly don't know if you kissed me or I kissed you," she admits. I don't have an answer to that, either. "Look, it was only a kiss, right? It isn't like we got drunk... and made a much  _bigger_  mistake. We don't need to cause trouble, I agree, let's just... forget it. It never happened."

"What never happened?" I joke.

She laughs, and I am relieved for the tension to be diffused a bit. "Exactly," she agrees.

I just hope I can get past this guilty feeling that is gnawing at my stomach before I see Chris again... or Eric, for that matter.


	12. Make Me Forget

_**Tris  
** _ _Late September_

I glance at Four nervously as we walk down the hallway on the tenth floor of the dormitory. I know we said we'd forget about the kiss, pretend it never happened, but the closer we get to walking into the apartment Four shares with my boyfriend-- where Eric very well may be waiting-- the more powerfully the memory dominates my thoughts.

We're just yards from their door when I stop, grabbing Four's arm. He pauses and turns toward me, eyebrows raised. "You okay?" he asks.

I bite my lip and nod slowly. "Just... um... you swear you're not going to say anything to Christina, right?" I whisper. "Because I think the only thing worse than having to tell Eric about... what happened... is for him to hear it from someone else."

Four shakes his head firmly. "I definitely will not be telling her, Tris." He sighs. "I don't want that trouble any more than you do," he adds, his hands raised with his palms facing out, as if surrendering.

"Okay," I say, taking a deep breath. We turn in unison and continue to the apartment. I don't know whether to be relieved that Eric has to work tonight, or anxious about the prospect of being alone in the apartment with Four. Things are just... awkward, at the moment.

Four and I walk into the apartment together, me a few steps ahead of him. Eric is in the kitchen, leaning with his back against the counter, and when I stop between the small entryway and the kitchen, staring at him blankly, he pushes off the counter with his hands and approaches me hesitantly, grabbing a small bouquet of flowers I hadn't noticed resting on the counter. Eric glances at Four with furrowed eyebrows, questions in his eyes.

I glance at Four. "Uh, thanks again, Four, for the ride today. I really do appreciate it." Four scratches the back of his neck, he seems to be looking anywhere that is not directly at  _me,_  and I see Eric bite his lip, chewing on the metal stud in his lower lip, eyes downcast. He almost looks ashamed.

"Sure, Tris. No problem." Four's shoulders are tense as he glances between Eric and me, then crosses to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, before trudging to his bedroom and closing the door.

I finally take the flowers from Eric. Daisies. I smile remembering the first time he brought me flowers-- an image of sixteen-year-old Eric, only his lip and ear pierced at the time, standing at the door of the apartment I had just moved into with a bouquet of daisies just like this one. He had looked nervous as he handed them to me, and I had summoned up my courage and pulled him closer to me to give him a sweet, tentative kiss. We had spent the evening playing arcade games. It was a warm night for October, and we had been eating ice cream cones at the lake shore when he asked me to officially be his girlfriend.

The memory melts my heart and for a moment, I almost forget about what today is, what I had to do today... what Eric refused to help me with today.

"I'm sorry, Tris," Eric sighs. "I shouldn't have... well, I should have put you first today. I was a dick. My specialty lately, it seems." I snort. He's not wrong...

I just nod. "So, Four took you to see them?" he asks, and there is no hint of jealousy in his eyes. Really, it looks like he's relieved that his little assholic episode didn't prevent me from visiting my parents' graves today.

"Yeah," I whisper. I hope he doesn't ask me any more about how it went with Four.

Eric nods and clears his throat, looking away. "Are you okay?" he presses, finally looking me in the eye. I shrug. He knows this is a hard day for me. "Stupid question," he mutters, then continues in a more confident voice, but still soft. "Well, I realize that you needed me today, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I am hoping I can make it up to you... I called in to work for tonight, so we can spend time together." My mouth drops open in shock. I don't think Eric has  _ever_  called out of work for me before. "So... I thought maybe we could go get some dinner? Come back here and watch movies? Your choice, of course."

My throat is tight... tight with grief for my parents, with guilt over my betrayal of this man, who I often forget can be so sweet, and with emotion at his thoughtful actions tonight. I swallow past the lump in my throat before I answer. "I'd like that. Thank you, Eric."

He gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before kissing me lovingly, and I feel the tension in my muscles melt away.

* * *

I almost suggested Chinese food for dinner tonight, but then decided against it. Eric hates Chinese food, so my first thought had been that this was my chance... but it just seemed so selfish to take advantage of him treating me so sweetly. Instead, we went out for burgers. The relief was unmistakable on Eric's face.

"Do you want to watch something we have at home? Or should I stop at a Redbox?" Eric asks me as we drive back to the dormitory.  _Home._  I smile to myself... he usually says 'my place' when he refers to his apartment, but tonight I feel like he sees it as mine, too. As much as I can't stand Peter, I almost have to wonder if I've misjudged him; Eric spent the day with his friend and came back a much kinder version of himself. I never thought that would happen-- not from spending time with Peter, of all people.

_Mom would like this version of Eric._ The thought brings fresh tears to my eyes.

"Tris?" Eric glances at me, frowning with concern, and reaches over to take my hand. "Should I just take us straight home?" I bite my cheek and will the tears away as I nod in agreement.

Eric makes me a drink-- not too strong-- and gets himself a bottle of water, handing me the cocktail. I take a sip and raise my eyebrows. "Tequila Sunrise." I name the cocktail with surprise. "You don't usually have the right stuff around for something like this."

He shakes his head. "No, but I should. It's your favorite."

I open my mouth to ask what's gotten into him... he's being so sweet thoughtful that I'm a little confused by it, honestly. But I close it without a word, thinking better of it; I should just appreciate this. If I ask he might take it the wrong way, and I really don't want to ruin it. He's making a difficult day a lot better. So I simply smile and thank him.

"So... which one are we watching tonight?" Eric asks, kneeling in front of Four's DVDs. I raise my eyebrows and he smirks. "Come on, you know you want to watch one of these zombie movies. Just pick one. Maybe a comedy?" A comedy sounds good, maybe it will lift my spirits a bit.

"Hmmm... Zombieland." That one I know Eric can actually stand to watch. He likes the part with Bill Murray, especially.

"Good choice," he grins.

Eric and I spend the evening cuddled up on the couch with his arms wrapped around me, me in control of the remote. Anytime I started to get up to get a snack or drink, he stops me and insists on getting it for me. When he brings me the third drink he tells me he made it weaker than the previous two, admitting that-- especially given the difficult visit I made today-- he is worried that I would overdo it. Secretly, I am especially thankful for that, because the night could go very sour if I end up drunk enough to mention the mistake Four and I made this afternoon.

Eric sticks with water all night, not a drop of alcohol. All evening, he is just as sweet and thoughtful as those first months we were dating, and it reminds me of all the reasons I fell in love with him.

When we finish Zombieland, he pops in Army of Darkness, another of my favorite movies. Ash has barely made it out of that pit they throw him into with the demented old witch before my eyelids become too heavy and I drift off to sleep.

* * *

I jolt awake with a strangled gasp, and all I see around me is pitch black, I can't see a thing. Burned into my retina are the images that have haunted me so many nights, this time as clear as they were that night two years ago when it was all real... the night the world spun off its axis. I see the blood... so much blood... I see their lifeless eyes... I see all of it again, all the images I wish I could forget.

As I curl into myself, sobbing uncontrollably, familiar, muscular arms wrap tightly around me. Eric's lips are against my neck and I can feel the cool metal of his lip ring as he speaks in such a gentle, soothing voice. My eyes begin to adjust and I become aware that I'm in Eric's bed. He must have moved me here after I fell asleep.

"Tris, sshhh. I'm right here, baby. I know. I know you're scared, I know you miss them. But you're gonna be okay, baby," he murmurs next to my ear. I turn in his arms and press my forehead against his bare chest. His arms tighten, holding me like a vice, as he continues whispering to me and making shushing sounds, like he is trying to calm a hysterical child.

Something wet drips onto my forehead, and it startles me enough to distract me, helping me begin to calm down. My eyes have adjusted to the little bit of light in the room and I can see his face clearly now. A few tears have escaped Eric's eyes and rolled down his cheeks. I'm shocked and confused at the display of emotion, and as I wipe one of the tears with my thumb, I ask, "What's the matter? Are you alright, Eric?"

Eric lets out a strangled-sounding laugh. "I'm fine, Tris. I just... I love you. It's hard to see you hurting this much, and I can't do anything to help you. You didn't deserve to have this happen to you, Tris."

In that moment, I want him, desperately. Maybe part of it is for the distraction, I can't deny that if there is a night I need that, this is it... but mostly, it's how much love he is showing me right now.  It's him putting me first when he knows I need it most, it's him being here even though it's clearly hard for him. Eric is not an emotional man-- he's hard and closed-off. When he cares enough to be vulnerable like this, it means something. It means a lot.

I trail my fingertips along his cheek as I move my hand from where I wiped away that tear, and I tangle my fingers in his short, straight hair, pulling him forcefully toward me, crashing my lips against his. When he licks my lip I immediately grant him entrance-- even when it comes to just kissing, that tongue piercing sends shocks of desire straight to my core. When we both need to come up for air, we stare into each other's' eyes for a moment, catching our breath.

"Are you sure this is okay? I mean..." Eric asks, his concern showing in the pronounced crease between his eyebrows.

I stop him from continuing that sentence with a short kiss. "Make me forget," I plead. "Make me forget the past... and remember where we are now. Make love to me, Eric. Please."

Eric stops holding back at that moment, and his lips are back on mine, his hands pushing my tank top up. When we break apart so he can pull it over my head, instead of returning to my lips, Eric begins to kiss up my jaw, pausing at the sensitive spot in the hollow behind my ear, nipping and licking and sucking, before he moves down my neck. His hands move up and down my sides before cupping my breasts, kneading them, his thumbs skipping over my hardened nipples.

He skips my collarbone-- the ink there is constant reminder of my past, which isn't a bad thing, but right now I just want to forget-- as he kisses his way down my body. My hands have been lightly running over his back and I slide one hand to his stomach, slowly gliding it down to the waistband of his pants. When I begin to reach under, Eric removes his right hand from my left breast and grabs my wrist. Stopping his trail of kisses down my body, and the zings of electricity every time the barbell in his tongue scrapes against my skin, he looks at me and shakes his head.  "No, Tris," he says huskily. His gray eyes look black with desire. "Tonight is about  _you_. Let me show you how much I love you, baby."

I swear his words alone send a jolt through me and the ache that had begun in my chore intensifies. He lays my arm above my head and instead of returning his hand to my chest, he trails it down my stomach and pushes my very damp panties aside. As he takes my left nipple into his mouth, biting down lightly then swirling his tongue around it to soothe it, I arch my back, holding him in place with one hand in his hair. I feel him smile against my skin.

When Eric pushes his index finger into me, I arch even more and cry out. Eric hums satisfaction. "Fuck, Tris," he moans. "You are so goddamn wet for me. God, you're sexy, baby." He kisses down my chest and stomach and hums against my skin when he nears my belly button. "Mmm I have to admit, Tris... that new piercing in your belly button really turns me on. I wish I could kiss you there, too. I know it needs to heal, though."

My breath hitches when he kisses around it and looks up at me again, reaching up to roll my right nipple between his calloused fingers. "Maybe you could get these pierced next," he smirks, nodding at the nipple that is still between his fingers.

I push away a snarky thought about how upset he was that I didn't  _ask permission_  about the navel piercing; I don't want to fight, I don't want to be mad, I don't want the guilty feeling already niggling at the edge of my consciousness, reminding me of that kiss with Four earlier today... I just want to revel in his attention now.

I don't have to worry about  _any_ of those feelings a moment later, because I am completely and totally distracted from them when he kneels beside bed, pulling me along so that my hips are at the edge of the mattress. Throwing one of my legs over his shoulder, he kisses up my right thigh, then my left, finally dragging his tongue between my folds. The smooth metal running along my lips elicits an involuntary shudder, it feels incredible-- but not as incredible as it feels when he moves his focus to my clit, simultaneously pushing his index finger inside me. Waves of pleasure shoot through me as the metal in his tongue swirls in circles around my sensitive bundle of nerves, and he adds another finger, pumping in and out. "Eric... fuck!" I moan. My hips arch toward him, pressing against him, needing him closer, deeper. I pant quick, shallow, uneven breaths as he bends his fingers in just that perfect way and I feel myself clench around him, a spasm rippling out from my core outward, and I cry out. Wave after wave rolls through me as Eric continues his ministrations until he feels me relax beneath him.

Eric lays back on the bed and pulls me against him. He captures my lips in his, and I tug at his boxer briefs as he shifts to lay over me, his weight propped onto his forearms, which rest on either side of my head, and I cry out when he thrusts inside me without warning.

We make love into the early morning, Eric fulfilling my request to make me forget all the pain and hurt and fear. There's only him and me, here and now. In his arms, I fall into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

I cross my fingers under the table as the server looks over my fake ID. Eric got it for me about a year ago so that I could go out with him and his friends. Clubs aren't really my scene, but I don't mind tagging along if it makes my boyfriend happy. Never once has it been denied, and I am shocked every single time, because one look at my face should make the server suspicious. People often think I am younger than I am.

The server finishes taking the other girls' drink orders, accepting Christina's fake ID as well-- Shauna and Marlene just get sodas as they don't have the necessary fraudulent identification-- and leaves. We are out for a "girls' lunch". Spending time with these girls always feels good; I never had friends like Shauna and Marlene before. Christina has never seemed to like me very well, but so far today, I have noticed that she hasn't seemed to mind my presence this time.

Marlene reaches out her hand. "Lemme see that, Tris!" I raise an eyebrow, and Mar rolls her eyes.  "The ID, duh!"

I laugh and pull it out of my wallet, passing it across the table. Marlene examines it carefully, Shauna leaning in to look at the same time. Shauna glances around to be sure no servers are within earshot before speaking. "Damn, Tris, this is  _perfect._  How did you manage to get it?!"

I shrug. "Eric knows someone who knows someone, or something."

"Guess we'll need to talk to Eric then," Marlene laughs. "Christina's is good, but this is flawless." I just smile at her.

"So," Shauna interjects, "you didn't tell me yet what Uriah thought of that tongue piercing, Mar!"

Marlene grins. "He thought it was pretty sexy. Tris got a piercing, too." She nods her head in my direction.

"What'd you get?" Christina asks.

"Belly button," I answer. Shauna loudly calls out that she wants to see, and I stand and lift the bottom of my shirt a few inches to show her, blushing. I was raised to be very modest and I work all the time at fitting in with regular people my age, ones that were not raised by conservative clergymen, but it doesn't come naturally even now.

"Oh! Tris!" Marlene says, lighting up like she just remembered something. "Where were you yesterday? Shauna and I went out to take photos and I texted you, but you never answered. I didn't see you around campus at all!"  _Shit. I don't want to talk about this. I should have remembered to go back and answer my texts._

"Uhh..." I stammer. "I just... I had to--"

"Yeah,  _where were you,_  Tris?" Christina says. It's then that I notice how her entire demeanor has changed. She's leaning back with her arms crossed, eyes narrowed, full on glaring at me.  _What did Four tell her about yesterday? I never thought about that, I was too caught up..._ "I mean... I know  _who_  you were with, but I've been unable to get a real explanation. Maybe you can enlighten me."  _Fuck. I don't want to cause problems in their relationship._

I feel frozen here, my mouth partially open... I don't want to tell them where I was and why, I am not ready, I'm not ready for this...

"What do you mean, Chris?" Shauna asks, glancing at me, then looking at Chris for a moment, then back to me. "Who were you with, Tris?"

It's like I can't will any sort of sound to come out of my mouth, and worse still, that kiss I shared with Four flashes in my mind. Christina answers for me, which is probably going to make this situation so much worse. "She spent the day with  _Four,_ " she jeers, "and  _he_  only told me that she had to do something in her hometown and needed a ride. He  _refused_  to tell me what the fuck was so important that he would drive his  _roommate's girlfriend_  over an hour away and hang out in some little podunk down with her all day." Okay, I really can't blame her for being mad. " _And,_ " she adds, " _Eric_  called in sick to work, even though he admitted to me he is not sick, to spend the evening with Tris. What the hell was so important that not only did Eric need to stay home from work, but you needed  _my_  boyfriend, too, huh? I don't know how you get all these guys wrapped around your little finger." She looks at Mar and Shauna. "You two had better watch out before she casts her spell on your boyfriends, too."  _Great. Now she's trying to turn ALL my friends against me._

All three of them are looking at me. Christina is glaring daggers at me. Shauna and Marlene look more confused than anything. I sigh and rub my hands over my face. "I apologize, Christina, I didn't intend to cause any problems between you and Four. He's just being a good friend and respecting my privacy. He could tell what I needed to do was important, even if he didn't know what it was, and Eric was... unable to take me so he offered." I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I, um... I don't like to talk about this, so I'll tell you but I hope we can just... not bring it up again." Christina's stare is unflinching, still sitting back with folded arms, but Shauna and Marlene lean forward at full attention, their lips pinched together and eyebrows furrowed. They look genuinely concerned about me. "Four drove me back to the town I grew up in so I could visit the cemetery." Marlene and Shauna's expressions soften. "Two years ago yesterday, when I was sixteen, both of my parents passed away. I needed to go visit them. And Eric stayed home because he remembered how bad my nightmares were last year." I leave out the part about him acting like a dick and then wanting to make it up to me.

"Oh, Tris," Marlene says, and she gets up and rushes around the table to my side. She throws her arms around me just as the waitress silently-- of course when I'd love an interruption, that's when the staff just slinks up and leaves our drinks without a word, rather than interrupting-- sets our drinks in front of each of us and glides away.

I feel Shauna's hand grip mine over the table. Mar and Shauna don't seem to notice Chris muttering under her breath, "unbelievable. She still gets everyone on her side." Anger begins to swallow my sadness and embarrassment, but I have caused enough problems, and blowing up on Chris won't solve any of them.

"How?" Shauna asks.  _Shauna, I love you, but what part of 'I don't like talking about this' don't you understand?_

I don't want to further damage any of my still-green friendships, though, so I answer her. "Home invasion... I had snuck out to see a boy. I forgot to lock the door."

"So it was your fault, then," Christina deadpans.

I had held back the tears so far, but now the dam breaks. That was cruel-- and Shauna is telling her so but I am not really listening. My hands shake as I gulp down my cocktail. I can't even really afford to  _be_  at this lunch, but I did it for my friends... and this is how it turns out.

Eventually Marlene and Shauna give me some space and go back to chatting with Christina. I keep my head down and speak as little as possible through the rest of the lunch. One thing is for sure-- any delusion that Christina has any interest in being my friend has vanished.  


	13. Romantic Gestures

_**Tris** _   
_Early October_

It has now been a week since I told Four about my family... a week since he sat with me at the cemetery... a week since the kiss. I felt so guilty, and the drive home was awkward. I didn't see him around the apartment on Sunday; I'm not sure what he was up to during that awful lunch date with  _Christina_  and the other girls, and I never asked; I haven't recounted the way Christina acted at lunch, either. But we resumed our regular morning runs on Monday morning.

Since we saw one another again on Monday, the awkward tension has slowly eased between Four and me, but it isn't gone yet. Sometimes we are just fine, joking around as we always have. But then one of us will touch the other without thinking-- a playful shove to the shoulder, or fingers brushing as we pass the remote-- and I feel that spark that I have been trying so hard to forget.

Last night, the kiss resurfaced in my dreams. I felt all of it again, everything. The kind, genuine way he listened to my story, his arms making me feel so safe as he conforted me. The moment in the cemetery when he said I was beautiful. And best-- or worst-- of all, that kiss. That kiss was like hunger and fire coursing through me, my whole body felt alive with energy. The way that something about him made me feel like I was about to fall. Or turn to liquid. Or burst into flames.

And I can't think that way, I can't feel that way, I can't. He has a girlfriend, and I have a boyfriend. Eric isn't perfect, but especially coming home an hour after that kiss to see how he was trying so hard to make things right... Eric deserves better than for me to be half present in this relationship. I have to stop thinking about this, we agreed to forget it.  _Stop, Tris. Just stop!_  I shake my head to clear it.

I worked a morning shift today; it is early afternoon and I am walking back to the dormitory. Eric should be home, he has several hours before he has to be at work. I could see that Four's truck was not parked in front of the Dojo when I left; I can only hope that he is at Christina's, I can't see him right now. The guilt would eat me alive.

When I stop into the dining hall on my way in, Eric is there, eating with Peter and Drew. I quickly get myself a salad and approach their table, silently doing a happy dance as I note Molly's absence. I've managed to completely avoid her for the past month. It's a small miracle, really.

Eric smiles at me as I sit down and pulls my chair closer to him, kissing my temple and placing a hand on my knee under the table. "Well, if it isn't Tris. Long time, no see," Peter smirks. "What, think you're too good for us now?"

I scowl. "No, I just think my new friends are more pleasant to spend time with," I answer honestly... and maybe a bit rudely.

Peter mockingly places a hand over his heart. "I'm hurt, Tris, really. Wounded."

I just roll my eyes. I tune out their conversation about the Chicago Bulls' pre-season and prospects for the year. When Peter gets up to leave, he squeezes my shoulder and winks as he passes, making me shudder. The guy is a jerk and I don't want him touching me; in high school he was always hitting on me, way to forward, making me very uncomfortable. Never when Eric was there to see it, of course. I don't trust him one bit.

Eric gathers up our trash and carries it on his tray with one hand while he uses his free hand to grasp my own, pulling me behind him as he takes care of our trash and exits the dining hall.

We pass Four on our way down the hallway on the tenth floor; he gives us a small smile and wave but doesn't say anything, and I am glad he won't be at the apartment with us. Eric and I chat a little, and I tell him about my day at work. I pick up the apartment a little while we talk; Four rarely leaves his stuff out but I'm glad that he left his bedroom door open today, then I don't feel badly setting his backpack just inside the door.

I've just gotten myself a soda from the fridge, and when I turn around, Eric traps me between his body and the kitchen counter, with his hands gripping the counter edge on either side of me. He leans down, breathing in the scent of my shampoo before I begin to feel his lips moving softly down my neck, his lip rings cold against my skin.

I reach behind me to set down the can of soda before I wrap my arms around his neck, tilting my head back to give him better access. He kisses back up my neck and nips at the soft, sensitive spot just behind my ear and a moan escapes my lips; I feel him smirk against my skin. His fingers graze the hem of my t-shirt and soon he is pulling it over my head; I'd be very nervous about being in the kitchen at this moment if it weren't for the spaghetti strap camisole I had on underneath my shirt.

Eric starts to peel off the camisole, too. He isn't seriously expecting to have sex right here in the kitchen, is he?! The thought that Four could walk in makes me sick to my stomach. I grab his wrists with both hands and pull his fingers away from my shirt. For a second I think he's going to get mad, but when I start walking backwards still holding his wrist, toward the bedroom, he pulls his wrists out of my grasp and whisks me into his arms, bridal-style, and kisses me deeply on the way into the bedroom.

Once Eric has placed me on the bed, he wastes no time getting back to taking off my cami, only breaking our kiss to pull the thin fabric over my head between us and then to take off his own shirt, before he moves on to my jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them before I help pull them off, then quickly removing his own pants. We are both in just our underwear, and his hard cock tenting his boxers. Eric is the only man I have ever been with but even so, I know he is not small.

I push down his boxers and his hard cock springs free.  _I wonder if Four's is as big..._ I think then immediately scold myself.  _Stop it, Beatrice!_

Eric's and my tongues dance together as he continues to kiss me, then as he slides his hand into my panties he begins to kiss down my neck, reaching me to unclasp my bra. He tosses it to the floor just as he enters me with two fingers, and he begins to pump them in and out. My fingernails scrape his back as he kisses down my neck, my collarbone, continuing on to my chest and stomach, stopping at my belly button and swirling his tongue around the sensitive, still healing piercing. It is the first time he has touched it like that and I let out a loud moan and shiver. I'm glad that for once Four isn't home... I don't have to hold back.

_Four has such long fingers... I wonder what his--_  I force my mind not to finish that sentence. _What the hell is wrong with me?! Eric is fingering me and I'm wondering about Four's long, narrow fingers. Seriously, I need to stop thinking of him._

"You're so wet, baby," Eric mumbles, and kisses me again, removing his fingers and bringing them up to push them into my mouth. I taste my own arousal on his fingers as Eric positions himself between my legs, his other hand guiding his cock to my opening. The metal on his piercing feels amazing against my delicate skin. I suck in a breath as he pushes into me.

Eric pushes all the way into me, and once he is completely sheathed inside me we both moan in unison, and he chuckles slightly under his breath. Then he kisses down my jaw and neck as he pulls almost all the way out, then pushes back in, hard. His piercing scrapes inside me, but in a good way, and it makes me shiver. "Oh, god, yes," I cry out. At a slow but steady pace, he thrusts hard, again and again. His mouth finds my right nipple and his right hand wraps around my opposite breast, squeezing and kneading. My back arches, pushing my chest toward him, and I grip the sheet, bunching it up in both hands, tugging it from the corners of the mattress. He bites down on my nipple then his tongue, swirls around my pink bud, soothing it.

Eric abruptly pulls out of me and sits up on his knees, and I am not sure what's going on until he grabs me by my waist and flips me over, placing me on my knees and pushing my back down so that my shoulders and head rest on the mattress, and quickly enters me from behind. "You feel so good wrapped around my cock, baby," Eric groans as he enters me again and pounds into me.

I reach up and begin to pinch and stroke my sensitive bundle of nerves. And again, now that I am facing away and can't see Eric, my mind is wandering back to Four. Sex with Eric is always good, but suddenly it's even better. As I rub and pinch my clit and Eric thrusts into me again and again, hard and fast, gripping my hips almost painfully with his rough, calloused hands, I close my eyes. Eric's piercing rubs just the right spot from this position, it's incredible. "Fuck!" I yell.  _I bet Four doesn't have one of these..._ I am remembering that kiss I shared with Four a week ago and I can't bring myself, at this moment, to care how wrong that is. But just thinking about that kiss, I feel a warm tingle spreading from the center of me outward and I hear my own breathing becoming louder and louder, faster and faster.

Intense pleasure roars through me and I let out a very satisfied groan as my entire body shudders. "Don't stop," I pant. "Please, don't stop." My release is upon me rolling through me in waves, and I want to ride it out to its end. As my walls tighten around him, Eric, lets out a deep groan and pants out "Goddamn, Tris, you are so sexy," and collapses on top of me.

Now my high is over, and I'm left with this uneasy, heavy feeling that threatens to suffocate me. I just had sex with my boyfriend and got off largely due to his piercing...  _while_   _picturing his roommate._  I'm a terrible girlfriend.

I throw Eric's discarded shirt over my head, not bothering with panties. "Want anything to drink?  I'm thirsty, I'm going to grab that Coke I left on the counter," I tell Eric.

"Grab me a beer, babe-- thanks," Eric says.

"And hurry back for round two," he adds, slapping my butt as I begin to walk away.

I shuffle into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge and my soda from the counter. But on the way back, I freeze and feel the color drain from my face. Wasn't Four's door open before? Yes... yes, it was, because I stuck his backpack just inside the door. I wouldn't have done that if it weren't already open. But it's not open any more. No, now his door is closed... and he wasn't here so we didn't bother to be quiet...

I groan.  _It doesn't matter,_  I tell myself.  _There's no way he's as hung up on me as I am on him. He won't care that much. Just forget it, Tris._ I shake my head to clear it again and hurry back into Eric's bedroom.

* * *

I slowly ease the clutch up as I gently push down on the gas pedal. Eric has taught me to drive a stick shift, but it's a rare occasion that I actually get to drive his car-- usually only if he's had too much to drink at a party while I have kept my consumption controlled.

Eric and I spent the rest of the afternoon playing a car racing video game, and it was fun-- we were pretty evenly matched. Then he got ready for work and left to meet Christina to take an Uber to work. When Four came home shortly after, I could barely look at him. I will have to find some way to forget that kiss, because I miss his friendship. I  _need_  his friendship.

On my way out the door to dinner, I noticed something unusual-- Eric's keys were on the counter. He usually always brings them with him. So when I was getting my own dinner at the dining hall, it occurred to me that I had access to his car, with his keys left behind. It would have been a good idea to ask permission before taking his car, but I wanted to surprise him.

So here I am now, starting off on the twenty minute drive to the club downtown where Eric works. I am going to surprise him with dinner-- I picked up his favorite pasta dish from the dining hall and packaged it up nicely, along with some garlic bread and a piece of Dauntless cake. I even took the time to stop back at the apartment and write a nice little note to include with it.

I've only been to the club once before, so the bouncer does not recognize me as Eric's girlfriend when I arrive. He's a hulking giant of a man, but something about his eyes tells me that he is harmless, he probably couldn't kill an ant. He looks a little familiar-- I think he may be in my psychology class, it's one of those big lecture courses in an auditorium with tons of students. The bouncer, whose nameplate reads  _Al_ with the title  _Security_  beneath it in a smaller print, looks me up and down as he asks for ID and the $20 cover charge.

"Hi," I say sweetly. "I'm Eric's girlfriend. Any chance I can get in without paying the cover charge?  I just want to bring him dinner, I'm not staying."

Al glances nervously and something flashes in his eyes, an emotion I can't quite read-- it is gone too quickly. Then he smirks and says, "Yeah, go right ahead. I don't see him at the bar, I think he's on break in the back room." He directs me to the correct hallway and I smile a little as I begin down it. The sick, guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach eases a bit now that I am focusing on doing something nice for my boyfriend.

As I walk down the hall, I hear a voice-- a woman, by the pitch and tone-- moan. "Oh, God," she pants. "Just like that... don't stop." Should I turn around and ask someone at the bar to help me find him? I really don't want to walk in on someone mid-fuck. Eric never told me this sort of thing goes on among his coworkers. And the voice sounds slightly familiar, but I can't place it.

I really don't think I want to see the show, I'll go ask at the bar and see if they know where he is. I'm about to turn around when another voice stops me in my tracks. "Chris... oh, fuck, you feel so good, baby."

Suddenly my heart pounding in my ears is the only thing I can hear. It  _is_  Christina that is back there... and that second voice... I certainly know that second voice. I could never mistake it. It's Eric.

I find myself slowly walking down the hall; it's like I'm sleepwalking. I make no conscious decision to propel my body forward, it just does it all on its own. And then the next thing I know, I have stopped, still hidden by the dark of the hallway, the bag filled with Eric's dinner still held in my shaking hand, but from here, I can see them. And it's an image I may never be able to banish from my mind.

Eric--  _my Eric--_  has that self-centered whore that Four calls his girlfriend pressed against a wall. The hem of her much-too-short skirt is pushed up to her waist, she still has her thong on, simply pushed to the side. Eric's forehead rests against the wall next to Christina's face, her head is thrown back and her back arched, and I can see the beads of sweat gathering at the back of his neck. Christina's entire body jerks upward with each hard thrust, and I just stand here, completely shell shocked.

My hand flies to my mouth to stifle a sob as I drop to a crouch in the middle of the hallway. The only person that I _thought_  loved me... he's cheating on me. He's fucking his coworker... his roommate's girlfriend, for God's sake!

I don't know what to do, but at the pace they were going, I doubt he's lasting much longer so I need to decide  _now._  Do I want to confront him? Or leave and gather my thoughts first? I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.

All at once every muscle in my body just wants to run, to run away, far away from this. So I do. I slow to a brisk walking pace when I exit the hallway, trying not to draw attention to myself. Dropping Eric's dinner in the nearest trash can, I hurry out of the club and straight to Eric's car. Thank goodness he has keyless entry on this car, I don't think I could steady my shaking hands enough to get the key in the lock at the moment. Then I just sit there, my forehead resting on the steering wheel and tears streaming down my face, for I don't know how long.

* * *

The clock reads 3:12. Eric will be home soon. After I parked his car at the dorm, I sat there for a while deciding what to do, where to go. His apartment was possibly the last place I wanted to be, especially with any possibility that Four could be there when I walk in-- I couldn't face him. On the other hand, I couldn't face Marlene and Shauna in that moment, and my only other option was to go to my own dorm room... and risk Molly taking tonight's misery to a whole new level.

So, when my phone chimed alerting me to a text from Four, telling me that he was at Zeke and Uriah's and they would all love to see me, as well, I politely declined and went straight up to the apartment he shares with Eric. Once inside, I made a beeline for Eric's closet, pulling things out until I found what I was looking for: a metal box that Eric pulls out only occasionally, and which I've never raided without him, and rarely even with him. Eric keeps weed in this box.

I had never tried pot before I started dating Eric, before my parents died, and I have never been much of a fan of the feeling it gives me; I usually prefer the slight buzz of some alcohol, or else to just stay sober. But right now, I just don't want to feel, and I know that if I smoke enough of this, that is what I will accomplish. I will admit, there was a short time when Eric and I were first together that I did this much more often, when the pain of my parents' deaths was much more fresh, so I know what affect it will have now.

It's not the healthiest way to deal with my problems, but at this moment, I simply don't care.

Soon, I have achieved my goal: I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. When feeling starts to creep back in a couple hours later, I load another bowl into Eric's pipe and drown the feelings back out. At some point, I hear Four come in and go straight to his own bedroom, shutting the door. I don't even flinch-- I just lay here, breathing steadily, unmoving. And as I lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, I think.

Eric was screwing Christina in the backroom at work; this is the one fact that I am sure of. What lead to it? Has this happened before? And if so, how long has it been going on? Does it even matter? Does any of that impact my decision on whether to give him another chance?

_Yes,_  I decide. Eric has stuck by me for two years. And just a week ago, I screwed up, too-- I kissed Four. I'm not innocent, either. So, I decide, I will hear what he has to say, and then I will figure out what I want to do.

I also don't know whether to tell Four.  _I don't need to decide that tonight,_  I tell myself. I can figure that out in the morning.

I am still awake, still staring at the ceiling, when I hear the front door of the apartment and Eric's heavy footsteps.

The door opens, and the ceiling lamp is switched on. I cover my eyes with my palms; the light is so bright after spending the past several hours in darkness. "Did I wake you?" Eric sounds bewildered.

"No, I was awake," I mumble, still not looking at him. I don't want to confront him about this. I am so afraid of what his answer will be. I don't want to, but if I don't find out, it will drive me insane. Time to rip off the bandaid.

"What's this about? I can't even remember the last time you got high," Eric says, looking at the open metal box on the desk.

"I take it Al didn't tell you I stopped by, then," I snap at him. "You're right, I usually  _don't_  get high, but after trying to bring you dinner and seeing you in the back room with your dick inside of Christina, I needed a little help calming down."

His eyes widen, and I feel a familiar burning pressure in my eyes. I press the heels of my hands against them. He suddenly rushes to the side of the bed and pulls my hands away from my face, holding my wrist. "Baby... baby, I'm so sorry, please forgive me," he pleads. I've never seen Eric beg before. I just stare at him blankly.

"Tris, I love you," he whispers.

I scoff at him. "Oh, you do, huh? That's a weird way to show it."

"Baby..." he runs his hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry, really, I am. It was a mistake, a terrible mistake. It has never happened before and it will never happen again. I had too many drinks at the beginning of my shift, she came onto me. I... I don't know what was wrong with me but I love you, I'm so sorry."

I search his eyes. I can't tell if he is telling me the truth or not, but I think he might be. And, again... I did have my own lapse in judgement just a week ago, and that was without the help of alcohol. I sigh. "You swear?"

"I swear," he agrees, his tone urgent. "I swear, Tris, I only love you."

I don't know what to do. Maybe... maybe it really was just a one time mistake. Maybe he is as frantic as he seems to be. Maybe if I just forgive him, I can just pretend this never happened. I can pretend that I am enough. I don't have anyone else; Eric is my family. I can't give up on my only family without a fight.

If I'm honest with myself, I know that deep down, there's a part of me that's simply afraid-- afraid to be all alone. I remember Eric's tears after my nightmare last weekend. He does care for me, I know he does. He is a flawed person, but so is everyone.

"Just come to bed," I hear myself say, exhausted and defeated. "Just come to bed, we can figure this out tomorrow." But deep down I already know, I can't be all alone in this world. I can't just let him go.

It was a one time mistake. I don't need to break up Four & Christina's relationship as long as it never happens again. And really... I just... I don't want anyone to know. It would be so humiliating... I just can't have that conversation. I can't face it. I can't, and I won't.


	14. Visiting Day

**_Four_ **   
_Mid-October_

“So, Visiting Day is tomorrow, isn’t it?” Amar asks as we tidy up the gym at the end of the day.  You can have visitors anytime you want, of course, but this day is especially set up for families, with events on campus and such.

I groan.  “Yeah, about that… you’re sure you don’t need me to come in and, like… wash walls or something, tomorrow?”

Amar chuckles.  “I take it you aren’t looking forward to seeing your family.  That visit last month didn’t go well?”  After my last visit home, I asked Amar to please never give me a Saturday off to go home for a family event ever again.  I immediately regretted it-- having just returned from my weekend visit for Marcus’s business dinner, I was still very sore from my encounter with his belt, and I worry that Amar could tell something was really wrong.  

I shrug.  “It’s been just my dad and me for a long time,” I tell him, spitting the word ‘dad’ out as if it tastes bad.  “We… don’t get along very well.”  Amar nods slowly.

“Look, Four,” Amar says with a sigh.  “I can tell you’ve been through some shit, but I’m not going to pry-- if you want me to know, you’ll tell me.  I just hope that you have _someone_ you can talk to about whatever it is.  It’s not good to keep too much inside.”  I run my fingers through my hair nervously, avoiding eye contact with him.  “Like maybe your girlfriend?  Do you talk to her?”

A short laugh escapes me before I can stop it.  “I’ll take that as a no,” Amar says slowly, eyebrows raised.

“I don’t know, Amar…” I move a punching bag to the back of the closet to make room for the others we need to fit in there.  “Christina… I almost broke up with her last month.  Then I don’t know, I decided not to give up like that… but now I can’t even remember why.  It just feels like everything is always all about _her._ ”

“A bit one-sided,” he says.

“Yeah, exactly.  I don’t feel comfortable talking to her about things that are really personal.”

Amar taps his chin.  “And you’ve been together over a year?”  I nod.  “Don’t you think after that long together… if she were really someone you were compatible with… that you could talk to her, by now?”  I look down at my hands.  Hearing it put like that… yeah, it does kind of seem that way.  For about the millionth time, my mind flashes back to that kiss with Tris.   _She_ might be deserving of my trust.  I’m almost certain she is.

“I’ll think about that, Amar,” I promise him as I close the storage closet and grab my bag.  

Amar nods.  “Good luck tomorrow at Visiting Day.  And don’t forget that I’m always here, too, if you need someone to talk to.”

 

* * *

 

It is now Sunday.  Visiting Day.  I’d rather pretend it doesn’t exist and stay holed up in the gym with a punching bag.

Zeke and Uriah would let me tag along with their family, and that would be alright, too, as Hana Pedrad has been like a surrogate mother to me for years.  I’d be surprised if Shauna didn’t invite me to spend time with her and her sister, Lynn, as well.

Unfortunately, Marcus is undoubtedly coming today.

None of my friends are there when I come to the dining hall for breakfast, but a minute after I start eating my scrambled eggs, french toast, and fruit salad, Tris sits down next to me.

Tris smiles at me. “So, are your parents coming today?”

“Uh, my mom passed away years ago… I think Marcus will probably show up, though.”

“Oh… I didn’t know about your mom.  I’m sorry.  It isn’t right, losing our parents so young. I’m glad you have your dad, though, at least.”  I don’t want to lie to her but I don’t want to tell the truth-- not here, not now.  And I don’t want to shrug off her comment, knowing what I know of her past.

Thankfully, just then, Shauna drops into the seat next to me.  Her sister Lynn-- who was a friend of mine in high school-- and their brother, Hector, sit down at our table as well.  I grin.  “Lynn!  Good to see you.  How’s high school treating you?  Miss us?”

She scoffs, but I catch the corners of her mouth twitching upward.  She’s suppressing a smile.  “Like I would ever miss your ugly mug,” she teases, and I laugh.  

Lynn and I catch up, and Shauna introduces her to Tris, though Lynn quickly dismisses her.  I’d expect nothing else from Lynn.  She is one of the least friendly people I’ve ever met-- much like myself-- but once she does know and care about you, Lynn is fiercely loyal.  Shauna tells me that her mother is chatting with Hana, Zeke and Uriah’s mom, just as the Pedrad boys themselves join our table.

My phone chimes; Marcus has sent a text alerting me that he will be here in thirty minutes and expects to meet me in my dorm room.

“Well,” Tris says, gathering her trash, “I’m going to leave all you Cheeseheads to catch up and go wake Eric before his mother gets here.”  I throw half a strawberry at her as payback for the teasing Wisconsinite nickname, and she catches it in her mouth, smirking as she chews and swallows it, and walks away with a wave of her hand as our friends all chorus their goodbyes to her.

“Four,” Shauna says, pulling my attention off of Tris’s retreating figure.  “Lynn and Hector and I are going to that little festival they have going in the Quad.  You wanna come?  Bring your dad if he shows up?”

I sigh.  “Thanks, but Marcus will be here soon; I’ve got to get up there and make sure my place is clean.  He doesn’t really like to do things that are _fun…_ so I’m going to have to pass.”

Lynn smiles sympathetically-- she’s perceptive, and I think she’s aware of how I feel about my dad, though she doesn’t know any specifics as to _why_ I feel the way I do.

 

* * *

 

When I get back to my apartment, I have fifteen minutes before I expect Marcus arrive.  Everything, thankfully, looks to be in order here, I just need to change into clothes Marcus will deem acceptable.  I frown as I look through my closet.  Most of the time I just wear basketball shorts and a tank top or t-shirt, but Marcus won’t be happy with that.  Maybe he will be okay with jeans and a nicer t-shirt.  I hurry to put on the clothes I have selected, then head into the bathroom to wipe down the counter and make sure everything is tidy, even in the shower-- Eric’s stuff was a mess.  Last, I make a last-second decision to move Tris’s items under the sink-- hopefully she will understand, if she notices before I get the chance to put them back.  

I am positive Marcus will not approve of Eric from the moment he sees that he is basically a human pincushion.  And I really don’t know what Marcus will say if he realizes that Tris basically lives here.  There’s a slight chance he may not care… or it could escalate to the point of him calling the school to alert them.  I’m sure this living situation is in some way pushing the rules.  Which is fine with me, though I’d prefer not to ever hear them having sex again.  About a week ago, I had forgotten my backpack and when I ran back to get it, there was no denying what was happening in the room next to mine.  Tris was loud, and I… just… don’t want to hear that.  I’d rather not explore the reasons it bothers me so much any further.

Just when I’ve finished quickly rearranging things under the sink to shove the girly toiletries to the back of the cabinet, I hear a knock on the front door and rush to get it.  But, of course, I am not fast enough; Tris must have been near the door.  She is already opening it when it comes within view.  

“Oh, hello,” I hear her say.  “You must be--”

“Marcus Eaton,” I interrupt, putting my hand on her shoulder as I step up behind her.  “My father.  Hello, Dad.”

Marcus is looking Tris up and down as though he is appraising her.  “And who is this lovely young lady, son?” Marcus asks.  His usual charming-for-the-public mask is in place.

Then, of course, Eric pops out of nowhere.  He puts one hand on my shoulder in a gesture that looks friendly, but he’s actually pushing me aside, away from Tris.  Then he possessively puts an arm around Tris’s waist.  “That’s my girlfriend, Tris.  She’s waiting here to say hello to my parents when they arrive.  None of her family was able to make it today.”  Tris is biting her lip, her eyes cast downward toward her shoes.  “I’m the roommate, Eric.”  Eric shakes Marcus’s hand firmly.  I have to say, it’s a shock seeing him like this.  He’s so… polite.  And charming.  Just another way that he reminds me of Marcus, I suppose…

I absolutely hate the way that Tris’s entire demeanor changes when Eric is around.  It’s almost like she becomes a different person-- that spark, every bit of her confidence, just totally seems to disappear the second Eric enters a room.  Sometimes it just makes me want to punch him… or shake him.  Get him to wake up and see what he’s doing to her.

Eric guides Tris away from the door and I step aside for Marcus to enter, closing the door behind him, making sure it doesn’t slam.  “Well, son, show me your dorm room.  I want to see what I’m paying a small fortune for.”  Classic Marcus, remind me of all that I owe him.

“Yes sir,” I say obediently.  I start by showing him the living room, pointing out the balcony and view.  I hate heights so I do not go out on the balcony, but Marcus does, and I wait patiently by the door.  When he comes in we begin toward the kitchen and I panic inside for a moment.  I didn’t check the fridge and cupboards for alcohol.  Fuck!  With Eric here there almost certainly is some in there.  Eric is in the kitchen now busying himself with who-knows-what.  Hopefully that will deter Marcus from feeling the need to snoop.

“Where are your manners, Tobias?” I cringe inside when Marcus says my given name, glancing quickly back at Eric, but he, thankfully, doesn’t seem to have heard.  I see Tris standing in the doorway of Eric’s room, but if she was listening, I am positive she wouldn’t use it without asking me about it first.  I don’t like people to call me Tobias; it always reminds me of _him,_ and I don’t want to be connected to _him_ in any way.  Chicago is my fresh start.  “I certainly taught you better than this.  You did not introduce the young lady without prompting and now you have yet to offer me any sort of refreshment.  Where have your manners gone?  Have I not given you sufficient reminders?”  His voice is quiet and dangerous and I wince.  

“No, sir.  I don’t need further reminders, sir.  I apologize for my rudeness.  What can I get you to drink?  We have water, juice, soda…”

“An ice water will be fine, son.”

Just as I turn toward the kitchen, the crashing sound of shattering glass startles me, making me jump.  Just having Marcus here, I was already so tightly coiled with tension, it wouldn’t have taken much to make me momentarily panic.  

“Shit,” Eric curses under his breath, glancing down at the shattered drinking glass lying in a puddle of orange juice.  Then he calls out, “Tris!”

Tris appears at Eric’s bedroom door and hurries across the living room toward Eric.  Marcus is watching their exchange intently.  Eric doesn’t wait for her to speak before issuing his commands.  “Clean up this mess, would ya?  I accidentally knocked that glass off the counter with my elbow.”   _Seriously?!_ I think.  She had nothing to do with the mistake-- wasn’t even in the room.  What is she, his slave?!  Tris just nods, a placid look on her face, then pulls out the trash can and begins to carefully pick up the broken pieces of glass.  

When I glance at Marcus I see his smug smile of approval.  It makes my stomach churn.  

“Uh, I guess we’ll skip the kitchen.  There’s really nothing to see anyway-- you can see the set-up from here.”  Then I call out to Tris, “Thank you for cleaning that up, Tris,” and she nods at me with a smile.  Eric didn’t bother thanking here, and someone should.

As Marcus and I reach the doorway to my bedroom, Eric comes out of his room and back into the living room.  “Babe,” he calls across the apartment, “I’m running out of clean clothes.  You haven’t done the laundry in a while.”

“Oh, sorry about that,” she replies as she mops up orange juice with a paper towel, then reaches into the cabinet under the sink for a spray bottle of cleaner.  “I’ll take care of that later today.”

I narrow my eyes at Marcus.  He is still watching Tris, he almost looks fascinated by her.  Every second I see it, tension is building inside me, like a rubber band being stretched too tight, and soon it is going to snap.  “Here’s my room,” I say to pull his attention away from Tris.  My father was horrible to my mother, is still cruel to me, and I simply don’t trust him near anyone I care about.

He glances around for a few moments.  My bed is made, the comforter perfectly smooth; every item in the room is in perfect order.  I even made sure that inside the drawers and closet, all was perfectly tidy, and he does open the closet, but none of the drawers.  Marcus turns to me and with a dismissive nod, says, “Well, son, let’s go to lunch.  There are some things I would like to discuss.”  He looks me up and down.  “Change into something appropriate first; you know I don’t care for this sort of lower-class look.  Bring your course catalogues and other planning materials as well so I can choose your courses for next term.”

“Yes, Sir, I apologize for being unprepared,” I say emotionlessly.  I bite my lip and hang my head, glancing once at Tris, who stands in the kitchen, staring after me with furrowed eyebrows and a frown.  I enter my bedroom, closing the door behind me.  

When I emerge from my room-- now in black slacks and a blue button-up t-shirt-- carrying a stack of papers and course catalogues, my laptop, and a spiral-bound notebook, Marcus appraises me once again and gives me a curt nod.  

“Bye, Tris.  Have fun with Eric’s family,” I say as I head toward the door.

Tris shrugs.  “Oh, I’ll probably only be saying hello.  I don’t want to intrude on his family time.  Probably most of the day I’ll just be doing laundry,” she shrugs.  “You look handsome in that shirt,” she says, and I see a slight blush creep onto her cheeks.  “It really makes your eyes stand out.”  We stand there awkwardly for a moment… she thinks I’m handsome?  The tips of my ears heat up… then Marcus clears his throat and Tris gives a short wave and walks toward Eric’s room, and I nod once at Marcus, following him out the door.

 

* * *

 

The whole car ride back from lunch, I feel panicked.  Will Marcus take me back to the dorm?  Or does he have some sort of torture planned for me?  I never know… I am never safe when he is around.

We spent the entire lunch with him instructing me on which classes to take; there is only one that does not go toward the Criminal Justice degree I hope to end up with, and I am hoping I can find another that fits the same requirement.  If I can use some excuse that it better fits my work schedule or that Marcus’ selection is waitlisted… maybe I can get away with it.  

“You haven’t mentioned that little tart, the mouthy one…” Marcus observes.  “What was her name?”

I grit my teeth and try to keep my voice even.  “Christina.”  Why can’t he stay out of my love life?  Things aren’t perfect with Christina, and I feel like lately we’ve been really disconnected from each other, but it’s none of his goddamn business.

“Right, _Christina,_ ” he repeats with an edge to his voice.  “So, you haven’t mentioned her.  I take it you finally followed my advice and realized you were above that little harlot?”

If I lie, will he leave me alone about her from now on?  Might be worth a try.  “We’ve drifted apart,” I answer vaguely.  It’s not entirely untrue.  I just hope he thinks I’m answering in the affirmative.

He nods, a wicked smile carved into his face.  “Good,” he mutters.  “You need a girl like the young lady I met this morning.”

“Tris?” I ask, shocked.  I’ve always felt that if Marcus approves, I’m doing something wrong.  Deep down, I know that there is something there when it comes to Tris… but it has never mattered, it can’t happen.  She seems to be blind to the callous way Eric treats her, and entirely committed to him.  So I just push those feelings away, out of my conscious mind, and force myself not to think about her in that way.  Or, I do my best to, anyway.  Maybe I was wrong for even feeling that way about her at all, if she’s someone Marcus would approve of.

“Yes… though her name is odd.  Is it short for something?” he asks.

“Beatrice,” I mutter.  I’ve heard Eric call her that several times.  He only uses her given name when he’s angry with her.  

Marcus nods and smiles. “Beatrice.  That’s much better.”  He stops at a red light and studies my face as he continues.  “Well, you need a girl like Beatrice, son.  She is all that a woman should be.  Docile, compliant, polite.  Submissive and demure.  Yes, that is what you should be looking for.  It’s quite unfortunate that she’s spoken for by that hellion you are rooming with.”  He shakes his head as the light turns green and he presses the gas pedal.  We’re almost back to the dorm, thank God.  “She’s quite beautiful.”

I nod without thinking-- Tris _is_ quite beautiful, there is no denying that.

I hate my father; I want to be nothing like him.  Christina is none of the things he observed in Tris.  Someone like Tris, then, is not what I want.  I loved my mother, so much, but she was what Marcus described-- submissive, quiet, docile.  He treated her horribly, and she let him.  No, this is why I want someone like Christina.  

But I play along.  “Yeah, too bad,” is all I say.

 

* * *

 

Monday night-- the day after Marcus’s visit-- we are getting along just like we used to.  For a while after the visit to the cemetery, it had been a little awkward between us, but gradually everything returned to normal.  She makes us each a drink-- rum & Coke this time, I guess Eric finally decided to change it up and branch out from his usual Jack Daniels-- and we laugh and tease each other while playing our favorite racing game on the PS4.

“How did yesterday go for you?” I ask her softly.  I had been worrying about how she handles things like this.  While I know I dread family events and holidays because I must spend time with Marcus, I can only imagine the feelings days like this must bring up when she has no family at all, and the loss is still somewhat fresh.  

Tris shrugs.  “Not the best day, but I got through it.  I do really miss my parents.”  I can see in her eyes how closed off she is in this moment.  I wish she would talk about it.  It doesn’t have to be me… but to _someone._

I decide to try one more time.  “I was surprised that…” I trail off.  “Well, I thought Eric would include you more than he does.”

Tris glares at me.   _Okay, this is not going as I intended it to…_  “He would probably include me if I asked him to.  His mom isn’t my biggest fan-- hasn’t been ever since she found out I had my own place in high school, as if that was _my_ choice.  So, really, spending a family day with someone else’s family-- especially when their family doesn’t even _like_ me-- is more painful than being by myself.  It makes me miss my own parents too much.”  Now I just feel bad for bringing it up at all.  I had just assumed that it was Eric being a dick… because let’s be honest, that’s what he’s best at.  It didn’t occur to me that it was Tris’s decision.

She clears her throat.  “You didn’t seem very excited about visiting day, either.”  She side-eyes me, watching my reaction.  Apparently she doesn’t want _my_ opinion and concern, but she thinks she can question _me_ about my personal issues.

I sigh.  “No, okay?  I don’t like my dad and I didn’t want to see him.  Especially not here.”

Tris sighs.  “I didn’t like seeing you like that,” she says quietly.

I don’t like where this conversation is going.  The dynamics of my relationship with my father are none of her fucking business.  But I still take the bait.  “Like what?”

“The way you let him push you around!  It was like I was looking at a totally different person.  You were just… so... “  she shrugs.  “I don’t know.  Timid, I guess.  I hated it.”  Is she serious right now?  I tried to talk with her a few weeks ago about how Eric treats her, and she basically told me to fuck off!  Who the hell does she think she is?!

I scoff.  “Like you’re one to talk.”

Tris shoots a glare at me, standing up from the couch.  “What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?” she hisses as she grabs her glass and stalks to the kitchen.

Tris pours herself another drink, this time putting about three times as much rum in the cup compared with her previous drink.  I’ve never seen her make her drink that strong before.

“I _mean,_ ” I retort, stalking toward her, stopping just a couple of feet away from her, “that you have no fucking business criticizing me.  Eric is basically your _master_!  Who the hell are you to talk?!”

I don’t see it coming, I only feel it.  I’ve been slapped before, hell, I’ve been punched in the face by Marcus more times than I can count.  Never before, though, has a blow to my face resounded with such deep regret inside me as now, when Tris has just slapped me.

“He's the only family I have, Four,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” I say.  “Well, Marcus is the only family _I_ have, but at least I admit to myself that he's a dick.”

Tris looks at me for a moment and shakes her head sadly. There are tears in her eyes as she says, “Fuck you, Four.”

The see first tear fall before she turns and walks out the door.


	15. Tension

**_Tris_ **   
_Mid/Late October_

Sometimes, when I'm working the punching bags, I wonder what would have happened if I had the self-defense training I have now, and had been home that night. Would my parents have died? Or would I still be with them now?

And if I had never lost my parents, what would my life be?  _Who_  would I be? If my parents were still with me, if I had never met Eric, would I be more timid, or would I be bolder and braver? Or would it have only been a different path that led me to the same version of myself that I am now?

Such questions are pointless. They are just wonderings, I will never have an answer.

The leather bag swings from a particularly effective punch, and I hop out of the way as if careens back toward me. It nearly knocked me over.

Sometimes it feels like Eric knocks me over with his words alone. He almost always has an explanation later about what he  _really_  meant, though. Then I begin to wonder if I am seeing things as they really are, or whether I am just being too sensitive, projecting my own insecurities into his words.

And other times, I feel so loved and important and whole with him. Are those good times real, or do they only mask the other times, the times I feel as though he is bending my soul as though he were crushing an aluminum can, leaving it smashed into something that hardly even resembles what it once was. And no matter how hard you might try to pull it back to its original form, it is an exercise in futility. It will never look as it once did, it will be forever crinkled and scarred.

The thing that puzzles me more is the effect Four can have on me. When we fight, when he is upset with me, I am reminded of power he has to wound me, deep inside where no one can see it. But I see it. I can't forget it. It's all I can see.

I care for him more than I should.

I don't know whether it's simply that place in my heart that Four seems to hold, a spot I never knew was empty before, that gives him so much power over me, or if he really is perceptive and is seeing what I don't. I know Eric isn't that nice a lot of the time- I know that better than anyone. But is he really as bad as Four makes him out to be?

Am I really as pathetic as I felt when I heard Four's words?

" _You have no fucking business criticizing me. Eric is basically your master! Who the hell are you to talk?!"_

Have I always been this unsure of myself? I don't remember. Sometimes I am just so confused, I don't know if I am seeing things as they are. I don't trust myself. I suppose I have always trusted Eric to tell me what  _he_  sees, to help me make sense of it all. But Eric can't help me when it comes to what Four has said about me the other day. And the only observer I  _might_  trust with this is Four… but, obviously, he isn't exactly impartial. He can't help me with this.

And maybe that's good. Maybe it's time I begin helping myself.

* * *

When I wake the next morning, Eric's arm is draped over me. I am supposed to go for a run with Four in about twenty minutes, but I don't want to talk to Four right now or see him, so I quickly dress, pull on my cross-trainers and double-tie the laces, and hurry outside before Four has a chance to stop me and tag along.

I don't even bother to go back to Eric's and shower; instead, I complete my run at the steps to Brady Hall. It's time to stand on my own two feet. I am the only person I can count on, and I need to take the first steps toward real self-reliance. I still have my friends- Shauna and Marlene, anyway, though maybe not Four any more- and I still have Eric. But I want to  _need_  them less.

I march confidently into the housing office. No one is waiting ahead of me, so I approach the window without any hesitation. The woman at the desk is middle-aged with short red hair, and she sounds bored as she drones, "how can I help you today." The words suggest a question, but her voice does not turn up at the end as I would expect it to.

There is a knot in my stomach. I don't know why it is so hard for me to demand things for myself, or why it makes me feel a little sick to my stomach to provide myself with my own place to live, away from the stress that often comes from my relationship with Eric. I have forgiven Eric for his mistake with Christina a couple weeks ago, or at least I desperately want to, and I think that might be the same thing. But I have not forgotten it, and I won't.

 _Be brave, Tris,_  I tell myself.  _You need this._

"Hi." My voice is sweet, but certain. "I put in a request for a room change at the beginning of the term. I was told that I would be contacted when something opened up, but I haven't heard a thing from anyone."

I stand there, fiddling with a loose thread on my shirt, for minutes that seem to stretch on for hours as the woman looks me up in her computer and spends some time reading through my records.

"Ah," she finally says. "I'm sorry, Miss Prior, but it appears that the request was written but never submitted. We could have had a room for you a month ago."

"What?!" I gasp. My face is hot and my palms sweat. I clench my fists and let my nails dig into my palms. There will be marks there later. "That's it, then? Someone screwed up so I have been stuck with the roommate from hell? I can't even  _sleep_  at my own fucking dorm room!"

The woman- I notice that her name plate reads  _Sheri Burns_ \- scowls at me. "I suggest you watch your language with me, young lady. Now, would you like to hear what we have available, or not?"

I sigh- or, I guess it comes out more as a growl- and nod my head yes.

"Ooookay then," she drawls out. "Well, we do have one opening. It's on the ninth floor of the Dauntless dormitory building and-"

"Ninth floor?" I interrupt. "But those are the apartments. They cost like  _three times_  what my current room does."

"Yes," she says with that damn flat, monotone voice.

"Well, I can't afford that. Since  _your_  office screwed up, can you give me that at the standard dorm room cost until something else opens up?"

"No."

I glare. If I could turn my stare into daggers, she would be dead.

My glare doesn't work any sort of magic, and there are still no available rooms. Sheri does assure me that there should be a room for me at the start of the new semester if nothing becomes available sooner, and I note her name and the date and time in my phone, assuring her that I will be back to follow up weekly until they find me something. I make her double and triple check that she had properly submitted my request before finally leaving.

* * *

I am not sure if Four is leaving before me, or I am leaving before he does, or maybe he is skipping his morning runs altogether (though that seems unlikely.) No matter how it's happening, we seem to have silently agreed that we don't want to start our days together any more. Tuesday's English Lit class was quiet and awkward, and Thursday no better- Four even sat across the room from his usual seat, earning a glare from the short, round girl whose chair he commandeered. She ended up sitting near Marlene and I, and then I was the recipient of her scorn, too; apparently she has decided that it is my fault she lost her seat. I have to admit… she's not wrong.

After class, I am ready to hurry off to my next class when Marlene grabs my arm and drags me to a corner of the hallway. I see Four leaving the classroom. He locks eyes with me for a couple of seconds and I feel this ache inside… loneliness. I miss my friend. Then he looks away and walks away from us, down the hall.

Marlene raises her eyebrows at me, and I feel my cheeks heat up. "Okay, I was going to ask what the hell is going on with you and Four already…" she begins. "But seriously,  _what_  is going on between you and Four?! What was that little…  _moment,_  that you two just had? You know Christina hates you already, right?"

Christina. Just  _thinking_  her name leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I can't believe she came on to my boyfriend! She already has Four, but she just had to come on to Eric, too?!

"I don't want to talk about Christina." My tone leaves no room for argument.

Marlene sighs. "Okay, I wouldn't either, after what she said to you at that lunch. But that still doesn't answer my question about Four. I know you won't talk about you and Eric, so I won't ask about him, but there is some serious tension, you don't eat with us, and Four won't even sit with us in class now?! Must be awfully  _cold_  in the guys' apartment."

I let out an exasperated sigh. I don't want to talk about this. "It's nothing, Mar. We had an argument. As  _friends_  sometimes do. And that's all we are, or were, or have ever been.  _Friends._ " I try to keep my irritation from showing in my voice. I fail.

Marlene puts up her hands with palms facing out. "Okay, okay. If things get too awkward and you need somewhere to crash for a few nights, you're totally welcome with Shauna and me. That goes for if you have a fight with Eric or something, too. I know you won't talk about it, so I don't know how things are. But I  _do_  know that Molly girl is a bitch- I've had a few run-ins with her myself- so, you know." She shrugs.

I don't know how to tell Marlene just how much that offer means to me- the words just don't come. So I smile, thank her and give her a hug.

"Alright, Tris, I should get to my next class. But just, you know… don't let this tiff you're having with Four go on too much longer, Tris. We miss you." I raise my eyebrows. "We do!" she insists. "Everyone but Christina, anyway. But we're not talking about her, right?" I smile at the joking tone to her last sentence and she gives me a quick side hug before running off down the hall, calling back toward me that she expects to see me in the dining hall at dinner.

* * *

Over the next week, Four and I seem to be able to tolerate being in the same room, at least, but we still make a point not to spend any time together. My morning jog has been lonely. I didn't realize just how much I enjoyed having a companion, until I was running alone again. But he has returned to his regular seat in class, and I have gone back to my usual routine of sitting with Marlene, Shauna and the Pedrad brothers at meals. When Four and Christina are there, we are all civil, but don't exchange many words.

Eric and I had another fight last night. He was off for the night… and of course, he was drunk by dinner. I hadn't taken time to fold his clothes the "right way." I impulsively snapped at him, telling him to fold his own laundry if he wanted it done a certain way. I cringed as soon as I said it; it wasn't that I think he will hurt me, he won't. And I also know he was being ridiculous and the conversation would have gone differently had we had it at ten this morning, but now Eric was drunk, so rationality was out the window. The best way to respond in this situation would have been to placate him, because there can be no compromising, I know from experience.

So the night went as expected: down a steep hill which only ended when he finally fell asleep. I hope Four wasn't needing to sleep, Eric just would not quiet his voice down and the walls are not thick. Then this morning, Eric was all back to normal. I don't even know whether he remembers last night's argument.

How can a stupid argument about methods of folding t-shirts blow up like that? My argument with Four keeps ringing in my ears. I miss my friend.

"Maybe I should start calling you Mopey." I hadn't even heard Tori come up behind me.

I slowly turn around and look at her, leaning one hip against the counter. I raise an eyebrow. "That sounds like the eighth dwarf or something. If you wanted to cheer me up, making a jab at my height may not be the best method," I tease. Tori rolls her eyes.

"Seriously, though. This has been going on for weeks." She arches an eyebrow. "I haven't seen Four around in a while, either."

It's a struggle to keep my face expressionless. I didn't know that she would notice that he had not been in for coffee since our fight after Visiting Day. He used to come in a couple times a week when I was working; I am not sure whether he ever did on my days off.

But this is Tori. She has become almost… not like a sister, but maybe a cousin, to me. Someone who cares for me more than a casual friend, at least.

"Four and I had a fight." I'm still trying to decide how much to say. I don't think Four would appreciate me telling anyone my observations about him and his father, and even with Tori, I don't know if I want to have a conversation about what Four said to me. If I bring it up, she won't let me out of the discussion easily when I get uncomfortable.

Tori nods. "According to Amar, Four could be dwarf number nine- he's been referring to him as 'Broody'," she tells me with a hint of a smile. A joke to lighten the mood.

"Broody fits him." I can't prevent the corners of my mouth from turning upward.

Do I want to do this? Do I want to tell Tori what has been on my mind- at least some of it?  _Be brave, Tris,_  I think.  _It's better to face it._  "Four expressed his opinion about Eric- or, more specifically, about the way I  _respond_  to Eric."

Tori hops onto the counter, but keeps her full attention on me, urging me to go on. "He said… he said that Eric is  _practically my master._  And I had said some things to him about… someone…" I sigh. "I don't know, I probably didn't even have much reason to be mad. Maybe I was upset because he was right."

Tori nods, her chin slowly bobbing up and down. "And what has he been seeing happen between you and Eric for him to say that, Tris? I know you don't talk much about things you consider private, like your relationship, but I have noticed things I haven't liked… and I don't even live with you."

For the first time ever, I open up about my relationship with Eric. I don't tell her about the kiss with Four, and I don't tell her what I saw in the back room of the club. But I do detail some of our recent arguments, and Eric's constant drinking… and the times he's been sweet, too.

"So, sometimes he's very caring, and others he's an ass, basically," she sums it all up.

I sigh and nod, and she continues. "You know, Tris… I have held back on saying anything about this for a long time. And honestly, seeing your friendship with Four, I was hoping that he might do exactly what he did and point it out to you. So please try not to be angry with me for saying this."

My stomach clenches, knowing that what she is about to say, though I am not entirely sure what it will be, is something that I won't be comfortable hearing. But I don't stop her.  _It's time to face my problems_. Statements like that have practically become a mantra for me lately, urging myself to be brave.

"I don't like the way that Eric treats you. You need to understand, Tris, that a relationship can be an abusive even if it's not in the physical sense. Just because he doesn't hit you doesn't mean he isn't abusive. And from what I've seen, he has a tendency to at least walk the line." She pauses for a moment, letting her words sink in, waiting for me to be receptive to the rest of her message. I feel sick to my stomach.  _Abusive._ It seems like such a small, simple word, but its meaning isn't small at all.

"The roller coaster ride he's got you on- sweet to you one minute and cruel the next… he makes you doubt yourself, I know he does, Tris. It's not right. This isn't what a healthy relationship looks like. He seemed okay when I first met you but that didn't last long, and I think you know I'm right about this."

I bite my cheek and swallow the sick, panicked feeling rising in my throat. The back-and-forth, the way he turns every bad thing into something that was  _my fault,_  it does make me doubt myself. Sometimes, I even doubt my own grip on reality.

I nod at her, not meeting her eyes. The bell chimes as a customer comes through the doors, and Tori leaves me leaning against the counter, cheerfully helping the man, as if we hadn't just been having one of the most serious and devastating conversations I have had in years. I see, but don't see her as she makes the man's drink and delivers it to his table, which is on the far side of the room. When she returns, she leans back, propped against the counter, and just looks at me for a moment.

"By the look on your face, I'm guessing this is all resonating with you." I want to be mad at her for saying these things about Eric, but she's right. But that doesn't mean we can't fix things, does it? "I actually wasn't done though."

Oh no, what else could she have to say? This was enough for one day. I start wiping down counters and the espresso machines, but she tells me what she wanted to say, anyway.

"You and Eric were just kids when you started dating and you were going through a  _lot._  You had to grow up too fast, Tris. You went, all in  _one day,_  from a sheltered life with attentive, conservative parents, to being on your own with a little help from your brother… and then weeks later, Caleb was gone you were just… alone. Other than Eric." I stop and turn to look at her, clutching the cleaning cloth with both hands.

"He has always been more to you than just your boyfriend, right from the start. You weren't ready to be provider and decision maker and… basically… an  _adult_  all of a sudden one day at only sixteen years old. Eric stepped up and helped take some of that burden from you, even though he was only sixteen himself, and no more prepared than you were. And the situation you two found yourselves in shaped the dynamics of your relationship. It was a lot of pressure for both of you, and that isn't your fault, it isn't his fault, it's just the way things worked out."

My voice is tight and my eyes downcast, staring at the blue cleaning cloth in my hands. "Eric has done a lot for me."

"He has." Tori's face holds no judgment, only concern.

"I don't want to give up that easily." I say it so quietly, it is barely a whisper. Tori doesn't say anything, and the expression on her face gives nothing away. "What do I do, Tori?"

Tori's voice stays steady and even. "I'm not going to tell you what to do, Tris. You don't need someone else to tell you what to do- you're a smart, capable woman. It's up to you whether you want to try to work things out. I know you both care for each other. Change won't happen overnight, but that doesn't mean it's not possible. What I would suggest is that you really think things through. Decide whether he's worth it, and if he is, what needs to change and what you need, and talk to him about it. You're both young, Tris. You both still have plenty of growing up ahead of you. So the question is, will you grow back together? Or will you grow further apart? If you want things to work, it's unlikely to happen all on its own."

I nod slowly, my eyes locked with Tori's. She looks older than she usually does. I didn't know she worried this much about me. But Tori is successful and kind and wise, and she believes in me. Maybe I should trust myself more than I thought I could.

"Thank you, Tori," I say, and I mean it. It gives me strength and confidence to realize that maybe there  _are_  people who care for me, not just Eric. And Marlene seems to, as well. But friendships, lately, have seemed a bit unreliable to me. "I am not giving up yet, and I  _will_  remember what you've said. I promise to take it to heart."

Tori smiles, but it doesn't meet her eyes. "Give him a chance Tris… but don't just let things go on like this indefinitely. Insist on being treated as well as you deserve." Then she goes to the back room to do some paperwork in her office, and I wander the dining room, wiping crumbs from tables, stopping shortly to help a small rush of customers.

As always, Tori silently joins me, helping to deliver the drinks as I complete the orders. She had her jacket and purse with her when she came up front, so I know she is on her way home.

Sure enough, soon she is ready to go home for the day. But before she leaves, she gives me a quick hug and softly says, "You're not just my employee, Tris. You're family. Don't forget that you can always come to me." She doesn't wait for a response before she turns and strides out the door.


	16. Opposites Attract

_**Four** _   
_Late October_

The only good thing about English Lit is the fact that Tris and Marlene are in my class. Okay, maybe it's not  _that_  bad, but this current unit… ugh. We're currently studying poetry and I  _hate_  poetry, or at least studying it in school, because I just… don't… get it. I've been sitting in front of my laptop screen for an hour and a half and I am nowhere near done with this paper. My back is stiff and my eyes are too dry. I need a break.

Really, I should probably ask Tris to help me. We are writing on different topics, but she seems to get this stuff, and I'm sure just discussing it with her for a few minutes would help a lot. Then again, we're  _barely_  back on speaking terms.

I feel awful about what I said to her that night. I was angry, I felt cornered by her remarks, and I lashed out. The thing is, I am struggling with the apology part, because I would be lying if I said I didn't mean it. I still think what I said was true. Unfortunately, I understand why she acts that way around him. It isn't that different from my response to Marcus. When I tried to talk to her a few weeks earlier, the kind and supportive route didn't get me far, but I really doubt Tris will still see me as an option to talk to if she ever  _is_  ready, after that outburst.

The other reason is that I'm afraid she will bring up Marcus again, and I don't want to talk about him. Then I realize, again, what a jackass I am- she told me her secrets, she showed me her emotional scars, she trusted me with all that… and I haven't trusted her with anything in return. I believe that Tris is worth trusting. I'm just too much of a coward to try and get the words out, and I am too afraid of how she might look at me afterward. I am not as brave as Tris is.

Sitting here staring at this screen while getting nothing done is only making my back stiffer. I need a break. I close the laptop and rip my earbuds out of my ears. I didn't even realize that Tris and Eric were home, but now that I am no longer drowning everything else out with music, I hear their voices. Perfect- I can ask Tris to help me with this essay.

I'm about to get up when I realize how controlled and even Tris's voice is. It sounds off, like she is being very careful that she stays calm and emotionless. I'm not sure I should interrupt. But they  _are_  speaking to each other on the other side of the paper-thin wall, so it isn't hard to make out what they are saying. I shouldn't try.

I listen anyway.

"Eric, you have put me off long enough. I need you to text Peter back and tell him you'll hang out with him another time, and I need you to stay here and give me the attention I deserve. 'Tomorrow' was two days ago." My breath actually hitches in my throat. I have rarely heard Tris ever stand up to Eric at all, let alone sound so firm and serious.

Eric mumbles something I can't understand, and Tris's voice follows, clear but weary. "We need to talk, Eric, because I can't do  _this_  anymore."

And just like that, my heart is pounding trying to break right through my ribcage, I feel almost kind of like I am floating. I don't like her being with him. He's not good enough for her. She deserves someone who will bring her favorite sandwich on her lunch break and watch the movies she likes and make a priority of the things that are important to her. And above all, she deserves someone who treats her with respect, someone who sees how amazing she is.

She deserves it because she does all those things for someone who won't return the favor.

"What's that supposed to mean? Do  _what_?"

"Well, if you'll have a fucking conversation with me, you'll know. I'm honestly disgusted that you're making this so damn difficult, Eric. You're on some pretty fucking thin ice as it is," Tris hisses.

"I thought you were over that," he groans. "I told you, it was a mistake."

Tris's voice is tight and strained as she answers, "Of course I'm not  _over it_." I wonder what he did.

I don't breathe, I don't move a muscle, as if doing either would keep me from hearing what comes next, keep me from hearing her dump the asshole.

But she doesn't.

I go back to my assignment and try to concentrate on it. I try not to listen any further- I know it's meant to be a private conversation- but still hear little snippets here and there. From the bits and pieces I still pick up, Tris is laying out their problems in front of them both, asking that they find solutions together.

And for once, Eric actually listens to her. He actually has a real discussion with her, acting more maturely than I've ever given him credit for, and I find myself realizing that in his own way, he might actually genuinely care about Tris. He still doesn't deserve her, though.

I flop back on my bed, deflated for reasons I absolutely don't want to examine, as I successfully tune out their words, now it sounds like a dull mumble. From what I did hear and the tones of their voices- serious, but calm and low, they are acting like mature adults, something I am still shocked to witness from Eric, of all people. It's also a huge turnaround from what I've seen from Tris in the past- when it comes to Eric, she has always seemed blind to reality.

When they eventually get to the make-up sex stage of their discussion- no big shock, I know Tris said she'd try to keep them quieter, but the walls are thin, so I am well aware that they're like rabbits over there- I can't take it any more.

I feel sick to my stomach from the very first moan I hear. Putting in my earbuds and turning the music up would drown them out well enough, but I'd still  _know_  what's happening next door and I can't stand it. I can't take sitting here knowing that he's with her in  _that way_  just yards away from me

I know what I'm feeling. I just don't want to admit it, even to myself.

So I throw some clothes into a backpack, send Christina a text, and get the hell out of that apartment without waiting for a reply.

* * *

"So, should we watch a movie?" I ask Christina as I pull on my boxers. Chris pretty much jumped me as soon as I came in the door, and at first it was a welcome distraction, but even as she was screaming my name out as she exploded around me… my mind was stuck on Tris. So at this point, I am hoping Chris and I can just just put on some mindless film, cuddle up on her bed, and fool around some more, and that I will eventually forget all about the girl who sleeps in the room next to mine, and my crushed hope that she would finally dump that asshole I share an apartment with. It didn't happen that way during our quickie, but maybe that's because the memory of what I heard was so fresh.

As for why I care who she's with? Well, let's not go there. I try certainly try not to think about it.

Nothing can go my way tonight, it seems. Christina is looking at me expectantly, narrowing her eyes as if I've disappointed her. Then Christina's lip immediately juts out into an obnoxiously juvenile pout. "Seriously, Four? Ugh,  _no._  Let's go  _out,_ " she whines. Chris always wants to be out  _doing_  things, while I am more content to stay in, most of the time.

I groan. "Really? Tonight? And do what?"

She seems to take that as agreement. Her eyes shine with excitement. "Let's go clubbing! Come on, you never take me dancing."

"That's because I don't dance, Chris," I deadpan. I run my hand over my face, annoyed. "Besides, it's a  _Tuesday._  I have classes in the morning."

"So, skip. This is college. It's not like they're going to call your daddy and you'll get grounded," she commands with a roll of her eyes.  _As if being grounded was all I had to worry about._

"Actually, Chris, my dad seems to know a lot of people here. He  _will_  know if I skip classes."

She raises an eyebrow. "So?"

I know it isn't Christina's fault that she doesn't understand. I haven't told her, so how could she? She's a spoiled brat; the worst punishment she ever got, even the time that she got caught when Zeke's neighbor called the cops and we were busted having an underage party, was her car keys taken away for three days. She has no idea what, or how long, I suffered for that mess.

But it doesn't matter that she doesn't know, that it's my own fault that she doesn't understand, her words piss me off and put me on the defense.

"I'm not skipping classes, and I'm not going clubbing tonight, Christina."

And wait for it… meltdown coming in three, two, one-

"You never take me  _out,_  Four! What the hell! You're seriously going to stay in all the damn time because you're afraid of your daddy, like a fucking eight year old? God, you're so  _boring!_ " She looks at me with utter disgust.

Of course she does. I'm disgusted with myself, too. I'm a grown man and I am terrified of my father. I hate that I am such a coward, and it fuels my self-loathing… fuels my anger at  _her._ The truth is, I  _want_ to tell someone, but the way she acts… it can't be her. There is no way I can tell Christina. I'm broken enough without whatever cutting words she might have for me, or for the pity she will ooze if she doesn't tear me down. I am ashamed, and I can't take the reaction she is sure to have.

So I lash out with words I mean, but never meant to say to her out loud. " _Your_  parents are pushovers. You're a spoiled fucking brat, Christina. Whether  _I_ want to respect my father is none of your business." I have no respect for my father, only fear, but I can't say that. This conversation  _cannot_  turn in that direction. "And you know I hate clubs! You spend half of your nights working at one- isn't that enough?! I'm not skipping classes and hearing about it from Marcus just to go and be miserable at a club for  _you_."

"I'm taking you to that concert next week," I point out.

Christina rolls her eyes. "Yeah, to  _your_  favorite band. Who ever said I was interested in seeing those stupid Red Hot Chili Peppers?" What the heck is her problem?

"Why are you even here?!" Christina complains. "Just go back to your place if you're going to be so  _lame_."

I roll my eyes and pull out my phone, pulling up Zeke's contact.

"Don't roll your eyes at me!" She looks over my shoulder, watching me draft a message to Zeke asking if I can come over there. "Why are you texting Zeke?!"

What does she mean, why? He's my friend. "Uh… because Zeke is my best friend, and you seem to be kicking me out?"

"Why not just go back to  _your_  place? And I didn't kick you out. I'm just irritated."

God, she's exhausting. And whiny. Why am I with her, again? I can't remember right now.

"It sounded an awful lot to me like you only wanted me here if I was going to grind with you at some dance club with obnoxious music, with you dressed in something ridiculously skimpy, show off to every guy in the place," I accuse. "And I would rather not go home… because Eric and Tris are at it again. They fuck like a couple of rabbits."

Christina's face twists like she just tasted something sour, and she scoffs and rolls her eyes… again. "Like we don't?" She has a point… but it least we're usually at Chris's place. "Why do you care, anyway? So what if your roommate screws his girlfriend?"

I narrow my eyes at her. Her words were right, but something feels off. I know better than to call her out on it before I've figured it out myself. "I don't," I lie. I shouldn't care, but I do. "But I'd rather not listen to it."

So I let it go and ask if she wants to watch a movie, or what. Reluctantly, she agrees… and then the battle over which movie to watch begins. Somehow, despite it being such a simple, inconsequential decision, it ends with her screaming at me just as Zeke responds telling me to come on over, and that he's got a few cold ones in the fridge for me. The invitation couldn't have come soon enough- I'm dying to get out of here.

* * *

"So in the end, it was trying to agree on what movie to watch, that turned into a screaming match?" Zeke raises his eyebrows as he pulls another beer out of the cooler next to him- he keeps it around and has his freezer stocked with a dozen ice packs specifically for this convenience- and removes the bottle top with the opener on his keychain before handing it to me. I have already finished the one he gave me the moment I walked in the door. It was as though he was standing there waiting with it, he was so fast.

"Well… we did argue  _before_  that, too," I admit. "She wanted me to go to a club tonight and skip class tomorrow, and I said no. But it was over the movie selection that she actually started full on screaming at me."

Zeke sighs and leans back. "I've asked you this before, but it's been a while, so I will ask you again.  _Why_  are you with Christina? I know you, Four, and I can tell- you don't even  _like_  Christina all that much."

"I honestly don't know why I'm with her, Zeke," I admit, hanging my head. "I almost broke up with her a month or two ago, but then I didn't, and I can't remember why I was so determined to make it work. I mean, I guess there are things I like about her. She's sexy, and pretty, and fun-"

"Yeah," Zeke interrupts. "She's fun… at things you don't enjoy doing, like clubbing." He has a point.

"She's friendly," I argue.

Zeke snorts. "And you're not."

"See? That means we balance each other."

Zeke groans. "'Opposites attract' isn't meant to be a command to stay with someone you hate."

"I don't hate her." Now I'm annoyed that Zeke would even say that. Of course I don't hate my girlfriend! And we were friends, first. I wouldn't be friends with someone I hated.

"Well, you don't like her."

I argue with Zeke, insisting that I  _do_  like Christina, but deep down I know I don't like her as much as I should. I think about her insults over my obedience to Marcus. Marcus might throw me a party if I dumped Chris.

"Whatever, man," Zeke says, getting up to grab game controllers and turn on the XBox. "Look, I'm just going to say this, then I'll shut up about it." He hands me a controller and chugs half a beer before continuing. "You are not happy with Christina. You never have been, but it's only gotten worse. You have nothing in common. She's totally self-centered. And I'm willing to bet you haven't even said  _I love you,_  and it's been more than a year." He's right, I haven't. She says it, but I don't say it back. If I said it, I know it would only be to avoid the awkward silence that comes when I don't return her words. I'm not even sure she means it when she says it, anyway.

Zeke takes my silence as confirmation. "Just end it, man. You two are not right for each other. I know the sex is good, but that wouldn't be enough for  _me_  to stay with someone like that." I don't respond; I just tell him to start the game already. I wouldn't stay in a relationship just because the girl was good in bed, I do like other things about Chris. A part cheers on Zeke's words, and another part refuses to give up on the relationship.

We play the game for a few minutes without further conversation.

"So what's up with you and Tris?" Zeke asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

I almost spit out my drink. "What?!" Is Zeke going to start pushing me toward Tris now, too? The question makes me think of that stupid email I got from Marcus yesterday, going on about how  _Beatice_  just seemed like a lovely girl, just the perfect sort of girl for me to date. His attempt to push me in her direction isn't going to work.

"Come on, man." Zeke pauses the game to open another beer, then continues talking after the game starts back up. "You have liked her since the moment you laid eyes on her. I'm your best friend, I can tell. I've never seen you look at a girl like that before." I roll my eyes, but I don't deny it. I don't want to lie to Zeke… or to myself. I don't let myself think about Tris that way much- other than the occasional dream about  _that kiss_ \- but somehow, hearing Zeke say it out loud, I can't lie to myself about it any more. "Maybe if you broke up with Chris, Tris would be interested."

"She has a boyfriend, Zeke."

"Yeah, well, he's a prick." Zeke shakes his head. "I've heard Mar and Shauna talk about him, apparently the girls find him attractive. But it seems to me that's about all he has going for him. He doesn't seem good for her."

I snort. He could not be more right about Eric. But then I remember the conversation I overheard. "Yeah, well, they were working things out when I left. Like,  _really_  working things out. Trying to save the relationship. He's important to her, Zeke. In case you haven't noticed, Tris and I are barely even friends anymore, anyway." Zeke asks me why, but I refuse to discuss it.

Zeke frowns and shrugs. Zeke and Uriah aren't as close with Tris as their girlfriends, or myself- though am I any more? Things have been very strained for weeks- but I know he cares about her.

Then Uriah comes in with the girls- just Shauna and Mar- and a couple bottles of hard liquor, and I dedicate my night to forgetting about all my girl trouble.


	17. Scar Tissue

**_Tris_ **   
_Early November_

For a week now, Eric and I have been getting along great.  The only thing that has still been really problematic is my sleep; ever since visiting my parents’ graves, I have had nightmares about the night they died.  The first week it was almost every night, but now it’s tapering off to two or three a week, so I guess I can still be glad for the improvement.  Unfortunately, I am _also_ still reliving that kiss with Four some nights in my dreams.  But especially with how much better my relationship with Eric has been, I try as hard as I can to push aside my feelings for Four.

I had asked Eric to sit down and have a discussion with me last Saturday, two days after my serious talk with Tori.  He had to get to a study group and didn’t have the time, but promised we would talk the following day.  Well, “tomorrow” came and went-- three times.  Finally on Tuesday, I got fed up with his excuses.  I summoned up every bit of strength and control and I did not get angry, I was just very _firm._  I told him he had put me off long enough and that now he needed to cancel his plans with his friend and talk to me.  After a little more argument, he did.

And when I spoke, he listened.  We talked about how I feel when he doesn’t consider my needs, and we discussed the way he speaks to me-- that I frequently feel like I am not smart enough, not thoughtful enough, just not _enough_ … that I feel like I am always failing.  While Eric told me, as usual, that he doesn’t mean it that way, I didn’t back down, and he finally seemed to understand that my perception is just as important as his intentions.  If he loves me, he should care about my feelings.  We both made a commitment to _really listen_ to each other, and to own our feelings.

We discuss our expectations when it comes to chores around the apartment.  I have been so hesitant to bring it up, I’m staying here for free.  And the thing is, I really don’t mind doing Eric’s laundry, or cleaning the kitchen… but I don’t like being _commanded_ to do so.  We came to the conclusion that we need to be sure we are remembering to appreciate one another more.

The last topics were more difficult.  I have noticed that Eric is mean and irrational when he drinks… which he does nearly every night.  Eric’s need for control has also become a bigger and bigger problem over the last few months, and I don’t know any simple way to handle either of these problems.  We’re still working on a plan for these things, as Eric doesn’t want to go to meetings and insists that he doesn’t have a _problem_ with alcohol.  I’m not sure if he does or not, but he has been drinking a lot less since our talk, and I can only be thankful for progress.

I walk down the tenth floor hallway with a bounce in my step.  My spirits are high after such a low-stress week, and it’s an unseasonably warm, sunny day.  Eric is off tonight and I usually can calm down faster from any nightmares I might have if he’s there with me, and I’m excited about the photography project I will be working on this afternoon.  I need a male subject to take candids of, and Eric agreed.  It will be great-- I’m really looking forward to spending the afternoon with my boyfriend, doing fun things outdoors _and_ doing what I love: taking photos.  It will be such a perfect afternoon.

In the apartment, I find Eric sitting on his bed, tying his shoes.  I grin at him and lean in for a kiss.

“Well, looks like you’re ready to go!  I’m so excited, this afternoon will be a lot of fun, I--”

Eric cuts me off.  “Actually, Tris, can we reschedule?  Peter has tickets to the Bulls game, I’m actually leaving in like fifteen minutes.”

I’m stunned.  He said he’d help me, and we were supposed to spend time together.  “But… but this project is due Friday, Eric, and you and I are both working tomorrow.”

“So?  We’ll do it Thursday.”

I shake my head.  “No, that’s too late.  I can’t just turn the photos in raw, I need time to edit them.  It’s not really a fast process, Eric.”  I work hard to keep the anger and hurt out of my voice.

“So go ask one of your other friends.”  He shrugs.  “Don’t be so selfish, Beatrice.  It’s not fair to ask me to miss a game to help you with some project.  How often do I get free Bulls tickets?”  He walks out of the room and begins to gather up his wallet, keys and sweatshirt without waiting for an answer or even looking back in my direction.  I am speechless as he mumbles a goodbye and walks out the door, leaving me standing in the middle of his empty apartment.

 

* * *

 

I have to get this project done, Eric or no Eric, so I find myself knocking at Zeke and Uriah’s door.  

“Trissy!”  I’m greeted by Shauna’s wide smile and a hug.  “Come on in.  I’m waiting for Zeke to get back and Uri’s in his room.  Four’s in there, too.”  I can see her gauging my reaction to her mention of Four; everyone has noticed the tension between us the past few weeks.

I smile and shrug.  I hope Four and I can really become friends again soon.  I really shouldn’t have pushed him about his dad, he was right.  And though his words really stung at the time, he did make me think about things and decide to make some changes.

“Eric blew me off for that photography project,” I complain.  “I’m hoping one of the guys will be my ‘male subject.’”

“Well, Zeke and I have plans, so he can’t today but…” Shauna disappears into Uriah’s room, and I follow.  She’s already almost done explaining what I need.  Four is sitting on the end of Uri’s bed.  His black t-shirt is tight in all the right places, showing off his muscles.

Four locks eyes with mine, I don’t think I could look away if I tried.  “I’ll help, Tris.” His voice is deep, and it rumbles.  I ignore the tight feeling in my chest.

“Great, thanks, Four.”  

“Hey, I’m here, too, Shortcake,” Uriah pipes up.  “You know, if you want someone a little more photogenic…”  Four throws a pillow at him, and Uriah stumbles backwards, tripping over a pair of shoes and landing on his butt.  He pouts at me as I double over with laughter.

Two hours later, Four and I sit together on a park bench at Navy Pier, eating ice cream cones.  I am not really sure what changed, but for the first time in awhile, being with Four is comfortable again.  I should be able to find more than enough decent photos for my project out of the hundred or so I snapped of him this afternoon.

“Do you, uh…”  I lick my lips nervously.  “I miss running together, I thought maybe tomorrow…?”

Four smiles.  He has the best smile, slightly lopsided, but that just adds character.  “I’ve missed it, too.  I’d love that.”  He looks off toward the lake, and we sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“So, things seem like they’re going better with you and Eric?”  I can tell he’s nervous asking me, and I don’t blame him after how his previous attempts at asking me about Eric have gone.  I realize he was only looking out for me.  He didn’t deserve for me to lash out at him the way I did.

“Yeah,” I say softly.  “Yeah, things have been better, mostly.  You know, other than him blowing me off today.”  I suddenly feel so heavy with guilt.  I never told Four about what I saw, about Eric and Christina.  But I still can’t bring myself to get the words out.  I haven’t told anyone about that night.  I just… can’t.  I tried to tell Tori once but my voice got stuck in my throat and I just could not say it.

“Well, I can’t really say I’m sorry that he stood you up.  If he hadn’t, we would probably still be avoiding one another.”

I laugh.  He’s right, we would.  I suppose this all worked out for the best; I have missed my friend.

“Hey, you wanna go play some games?” I point to an arcade a few hundred yards down the pier.  Four grins and nods, popping the last bite of his waffle cone into his mouth.  Then he stands, holding out one hand to pull me up.  When our hands touch, pinpricks run up my arm and I shiver.  I have to take a deep breath to calm myself.  “Okay, let’s go.  I’m so gonna kick your ass at air hockey!”

“In your dreams, Prior.”

We end up pretty evenly matched at air hockey.  Four kicks my ass at darts, and I am undeniably the skee-ball champion.  It is late by the time we get back to the guys’ apartment.  I sigh thinking of my weekly follow-up visit to the housing department yesterday; still no regular dorm rooms available.  I’m practically counting the days until the next semester begins as I have been promised a new place by then; even with Eric and I getting along better lately, I have been missing having my own space.  

Four checks his watch as we near the apartment door.  “It’s not quite ten… up for a zombie movie?”

“Like old times?” I tease.  “Sure, depending where Eric is and what he’s up to…”  Four looks a bit deflated at the mention of Eric, but quickly returns to that expressionless mask he wears so much of the time and nods his head.  “Hey, can I use your laptop to edit some of these photos while we watch?”

Four nods.  “Yeah, of course you can.”

Eric is still out with Peter.  Four and I watch Dawn of the Dead while I flip through the photographs I took of Four this afternoon and pick my five favorites for my project; Four occasionally leans over to see what I’m doing, comment on his amazement at my photography and editing techniques-- I just have to roll my eyes, I’m still a novice at this-- and, a few times, to complain about his expression or a cowlick in his hair in the photos I’ve chosen, feigning offense.  

Eventually, I put the laptop aside and curl up against the sofa’s armrest.  I wake in Eric’s bed later with a faint memory of Four’s voice whispering goodnight, and the feeling of fingertips gently brushing my hair away from my face.

 

* * *

 

Today is Thursday, the day that Eric said he would help me with my photography project.  The one that couldn’t actually wait until Thursday.  The one Four helped me with instead.  Neither of us have brought it up since he walked out the door to go to the Bulls game on Tuesday.

We still haven’t fought, but Eric has been seeming more tense the last few days, and it is starting to put me a little on edge.  I have had this nagging feeling that there is pressure building, a volcano on the verge of eruption.  I keep reminding myself of what Tori said-- that change doesn’t happen overnight.  It can’t be perfect all the time, right?  So I try to prepare myself.  I am not sure if I hope for a longer reprieve, or that it happens sooner than later, so that there is less pressure in need of release.

Eric’s forehead wrinkles like it does when he’s trying to remember something as he rummages around in his closet.  “Thursday… what… what was it we were supposed to do today?”   _God, he can’t even remember what I asked for help with._

“Nothing,” I say sweetly.  “I needed help with that photography assignment, remember?  But I couldn’t _wait_ till today because it is due tomorrow, so Four helped me instead, after you left.”

Eric nods as he pulls the metal box out of the closet and sets it on his desk.

“Hey, I just put the finishing touches on the photos before you came home.  Do you want to see them?  I just finished showing Four right before you walked in.”  I look at Eric hopefully as he rummages through his box, inspecting the plastic baggies of weed.  

“Where the hell did all my weed go?!”  Eric glares at me.  I frown; there should still be a pretty good amount left there.  I cross the room to and peer into the box, there’s plenty left.  “There should be at least another gram here, maybe two.  Just how much have you been getting into my shit, Beatrice?”

I take a step back.  I don’t like being around Eric when he’s like this.  What’s the big deal?  I didn’t use that much.

“My nightmares…” I stammer.  “When you’re not home… it helps me get back to sleep…”

Eric rolls his eyes.  “You need to get over it already, Tris.  And this shit wasn’t _yours._ ”  We’ve always shared things before… we’ve never kept track of who bought what.  “You need to replace what you took, Beatrice.”  His voice is low and quiet.  Too controlled, too calm.  The volcano is about to erupt.  

“I… but I don’t know where to get it, Eric.  I’ve never bought it myself before.”  I gulp, I feel like I just proved his point.

“Yeah, well, this was good stuff, too.  I want the same kind.  I got a really good deal before, it’ll probably cost at least double now.  But you need to pay me back, Tris.  Cash.”  Eric scowls at me.  “As for your little photos, I’ll look at them when you’ve replaced my weed.”  

Hurt.  That is what I feel first.  So he isn’t at all interested in what I’m passionate about, then?  After all the times I’ve gone to concerts for bands I hate, watched movies I had no interest in, listened to him go on and on about people from work that I don’t know, making sure to remember names and ask questions and stay engaged in the conversation?

Without warning, my hurt feelings give way to anger.

“Seriously, Eric?!  I don’t _need_ you to look at my photos, you know.  You act like you’d just be doing it as a _favor_ , and trust me, it’s a favor I don’t need or want.  I deserve to be valued more than that.”  I storm out of the room and to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge.

Eric glares at me; I see Four watching us through his open door, his lips parted.  

“What, Eric?  What now?  Are you gonna ask me to replace the damn bottle of water, too?  Oh wait… _I_ was the one who bought it, wasn’t I?  In fact, I bought just about every item in this fridge, and in those cupboards.  I frequently use _my_ meal points-- which I pay for myself, by the way, since I can’t freeload off my parents-- to bring you food!  And let’s not forget that you don’t even know _how_ to wash your own goddamn clothes, let alone have you ever chipped in on the cost of the coin-ops.”  

Eric’s steel-gray eyes are cold and hard, and they darken with anger.  But I keep going.

“But you know what, Eric?  I’ve never mentioned the things _I_ pay for, until now I have really never bothered to think about it. And you know money is tight for me.  Because I didn’t think we kept score like that!  Apparently I was wrong.  I _also_ have been totally accommodating to _your_ interests.  I take interest in what you like _because I love you,_ not as some favor.  Not with arbitrary _conditions._ ”

“You are such an ungrateful _bitch,_ Beatrice,” Eric growls.  I see Four take a few steps forward, fists clenched in anger, and I shoot him a pointed look and shake my head, telling him to leave it alone.  “I let you fucking live in my goddamn dorm room, I’ve stayed by your side through _all your bullshit._ ”

My cheeks are burning hot and my fists are clenched so tight that it turns my knuckles white.  “Fuck you, Eric,” I growl.

Eric’s eyes have grown colder and darker than I have ever seen them.  His jaw is clenched, there’s a vein in his neck that looks like it might burst.  I am mesmerised by it pulsing as he speaks.  

“Get. Out.”  His voice is low and he speaks through gritted teeth.  He paces back and forth a few times.  Usually I would be intimidated but this time, I’m just not.  I’m so sick of his bullshit.  I cross my arms and stare him down.  He glares at me.  “I said get out!  Get the fuck out of my apartment, and stay away for a while, Tris.”  

Eric turns on his heel and goes out to the balcony, pulling out his phone.  I grab a small duffel bag and a few outfits, my school materials.  By the time I rush out the door, my anger has been spent and I am trying to hold back tears.

The stairwell is empty, as it always is-- no one uses the stairs.  I drop my bags on the landing and slide down the wall until I am sitting with my knees bent in front of me.  

“Tris.”

A jolt goes through me, and I look up. Four is standing in front of me, his full lower lip between his teeth, his dark blue eyes burning into me.

He crouches next to me and I look away.  Four hooks a finger under my chin and tilts my head so I am looking at him.  Another jolt.  “Are you okay, Tris?  It’s alright if you’re not.  It’s just me here.”

I have trusted him before.  But this is different; I can’t talk about this to the boy I kissed, the boy I still I dream about, the boy who has a girlfriend, but who sends tingles of electricity through my body every time he touches me.  If he likes me, too, then this conversation would be painful for him.  And if he doesn’t, well, that’s just painful for me.  

So I just shrug.

Four sighs.  “Come on,” he says, standing and holding a hand out to me.  “I want to show you something.”

 

* * *

 

I have never been on the roof of the dormitory before, I’m not sure why I never thought to come up here.  It seems no one else thinks to come here, either-- we’re the only ones, and Four said he’s never seen anyone else here.  It’s peaceful.  It’s his place to think… and he’s sharing it with me.  

I don’t want to talk about Eric, and Four doesn’t push me.  He’s just… being here with me.  And that’s comfort enough.  That’s just what I need: a friend who will just let me be, and will be here with me.

We sit in a companionable silence for a long time, looking out at the city.  When we arrived, the sun had just slipped beyond the horizon, and now the stars are beginning to come out-- as much as they do in a big city like Chicago, anyway.

“Tris.”  I stop my star-gazing and look at Four’s face.  He rubs the back of his neck and takes a deep breath, in and out.  

“You okay, Four?”  He seems nervous.  But he nods slowly.

“I want to tell you some things… about myself.”  Four gulps, and his Adam’s apple bobs.  He licks his lips nervously and I keep staring at them, longer than I should.  “I… you’ve told me so much about you, and I know so much about… you and Eric… from living with you.  But we had that fight a while ago and I think it’s only fair that I explain.”

I rush to stop him-- I don’t want him telling me anything out of perceived obligation.  He can keep any secrets he wishes to, it’s none of my business.  “Four, no, really-- you don’t have to do that.  We’re friends, we don’t need to keep score here.  I shouldn’t have said anything, anyway.  You were right.”

He smiles, but it seems forced.  “Well, for the record, I’m sorry, too.  I could have… been kinder.”  He clears his throat and looks down.  “Anyway, I know it doesn’t have to be ‘even’.  I know you’re not like that.  I’m telling you because… well, I am telling you because I want you to _know_ me.”  I nod and keep my full attention on his face.  

“In that case,” I say softly, “thank you for trusting me.”  I grab his hand, and lace my fingers between his.  I don’t know why I just did that.  But neither of us lets go.

“Well, um… my mom died when I was nine years old,” Four begins.  “Car accident… she hit a tree.  She was drunk.  It was ruled a drunk driving accident, but I think she probably did it on purpose.”  His voice is barely a whisper by the end.

He thinks his mother’s death was a suicide?  “Why?”

“My father…” Four looks down at my hand in his, rubbing his thumb back and forth against my skin as if he’s soothing me, but really, I know he’s soothing himself.  “My father was terrible to her.  Abusive.  He yelled at her and made her feel worthless, he controlled every move she made, he manipulated her and… and he hit her.  He beat the shit out of her, all the time.  Always avoiding her face, or anywhere else people would see, of course.”

I don’t know what to do or say-- what, really, is there?  I just squeeze his hand.

“Sometimes he’d hit me, too.  Every once in awhile.  Just with his hands, back then.  But then when Mom died… well, he lost his primary punching bag, so I took her place.  Any excuse he could find to ‘make me a better man’, he took.  Usually with his belt.”  Now Four lets go of my hand, stands, and reaches for the hem of his shirt.  I stand to face him and hold my breath as he pulls it over his head.

Unlike Eric, who often walks around shirtless, Four always dresses before leaving the bathroom when he showers, so I have never seen him without a shirt.  My breath hitches and my heart beats harder and faster, and I find myself absently licking my lips, at the sight of his chiseled chest and abs.   _Damn._  But I snap myself back to reality-- these thoughts are not appropriate for the conversation we’re having now, they’re not appropriate because of Christina and Eric, I just… shouldn’t be thinking this way.   _Focus, Tris, focus._

Four turns around to show me his back.  His tattoo is amazing-- flames cover both sides of his ribcage, licking around his sides.   But I can see a few scars, long welts across his back, that are still a bit pink.  When I run my fingers over the flames, I feel more scars-- much further in the stages of healing, probably years old-- crisscrossing his back.  My eyes burn with tears and all the anger I was filled with a few hours ago is back, but at Four’s father this time, and it’s stronger than what I felt before, it fills every inch of me.

“When was the last time this happened, Four?” I ask him when he turns back toward me and pulls on his shirt.  My voice sounds hard, harder than I’ve ever heard it before.  

“Last time I went up to Milwaukie,” he replies, looking away.  “A month or two ago.”  I gasp.  Surely Four can defend himself against that monster now-- I mean, look at him.  He’s strong, he’s a damn martial arts instructor!

“So why do you let him?  Why don’t you fight back?”

Four raises an eyebrow.  “Why haven’t you stood up for yourself against Eric before now?”  He doesn’t need to say any more about that.  I’m beginning to see Eric as he is, I think.  I want to give him more time to change, and I hope he can.  But when Eric is angry with me, when he begins tearing me down with his words, I freeze… it’s like I am just paralyzed.  I honestly don’t know where that courage today came from, but I think I liked it.

“Tris?” Four cups my cheek in one hand.  “You inspired me today, you know.  Seeing you stand up to Eric like you did.  Maybe… maybe I can find the courage to do that next time.  Like you did.  You make me feel capable… brave.  I told you about my family… and you’re not giving me that look.  Like I’m a kicked puppy.”

“Well, you’re not,” I say honestly.  “It’s okay to be afraid, you know.  But you have to learn to act anyway.  I know, it’s much easier said than done.  I know you can do it though, Four.”

“Don’t call me that.”  His dark blue eyes are locked on mine, and I can’t look away… I never _want_ to look away.

“What do I call you then?”  He steps closer, so there are only inches between us, and rests his forehead against mine.

“Tobias.”

“Tobias,” I repeat.  “Tobias.”  It suits him.  It’s unique and different, just as he is.  I like the way it sounds.

“I like the way my name sounds when you say it,” he says with a smile.  “It’s nice to hear my name again, without someone yelling it.  Only when we’re alone, though.  Usually it just reminds me of _him._ ”

Tobias gives me a conflicted look and touches his lips to my forehead, right between my eyebrows. I close my eyes and place my hands on his waist. I don't understand this, whatever it is. But I don't want to ruin it, so I say nothing. He doesn't move; he just stays there with his mouth pressed to my skin, and I stay there with my hands on his waist, for a long time.


	18. Road Trippin'

**_Tris_ **   
_Mid-November_

The bus jostles me from side to side every time it hits a patch of uneven pavement or turns a corner.  I’m really tired today, it feels like a challenge to keep my body upright on the bus seat.

My photography class is on our way to a required weekend trip to an art museum in Indianapolis; there is a traveling photography exhibit the instructor wants us to study.  I’m missing the Friday classes I would typically be at right now, but that’s fine, I’m not behind in any of them.  A few students drove their own cars, but many of us don’t have access to a vehicle, myself included, so we are riding the bus provided by the university.  The bus ride will take about three hours.  When we arrive, we will be staying two nights at a motel.  I have been assigned to share a room with a girl named Amber.  I have met her before, but we didn’t find much to say to one another.

I’m sitting alone.  I have not connected with anyone in this particular class and I don’t feel like making conversation with anyone anyway.  My thoughts are caught up in the events of this week with Eric.

After our fight on Tuesday night and my time with Tobias on the rooftop, I took Marlene up on her offer to crash a few nights in the dorm room she shares with Shauna.  I stayed both Tuesday and Wednesday night, and it was just what I needed.  I didn’t realize the stress living with Eric was causing me until I spent a few days without it.  

During that time I made a point to think about my relationship with him as little as possible, instead almost treating my time with my friends as a girls’ retreat.  I never knew it could be so much fun to do things like paint nails together.  Christina stopped by once and it was awkward, but she left quickly after seeing that I was there.  I know that she is totally unaware not only that I know she threw herself at my boyfriend, but that I saw them screwing against the break room wall.  I was so relieved that she didn’t stay long.  I feel sick anytime I have to look at that bitch.

Staying with the girls, I saw Eric only once in passing, and really only saw Tobias at the dining hall, other than running together yesterday.  I skipped Wednesday after having been up late the night before, and this morning I was preoccupied getting ready for the class trip.

Yesterday-- Thursday-- Eric cornered me in the dining hall, asking for me to come “home” so we could talk.  For the first time, I noticed how strategic he is in the way he refers to his apartment; sometimes it’s only his and he’s oh-so-generous in allowing me to sleep there, and other times it’s my “home”.  He uses whichever language will best help him to accomplish his goal.

Still, I went with him to talk things out.  Eric apologized profusely, and three words I _never_ thought I’d hear from his mouth-- “you were right”-- were uttered, to my amazement.  I honestly was not anxious to go “home”, but I would have felt as though I were taking advantage to stay with Marlene and Shauna any longer, and I knew I would have this weekend away to continue thinking things out.  What I am sure of: if Eric doesn’t change his ways very soon, he will be out of chances to do so.  I’ll sleep on that rooftop if I have to (though I really hope I could find a better solution than _that_.)  Hopefully the housing department will come through soon, as I have been diligent in following up once, sometimes twice, each week.  I want to be sure they know that i will not allow them to forget about me again.

The bus is now on the interstate and the jostling of sometimes-bumpy road has given way to a gentle, soothing motion.  My eyelids become heavy and soon, I drift off to sleep.

* * *

”Tris.”  A girl’s voice, only vaguely familiar.  My head is pounding.  I squeeze my eyes shut tighter.  “ _Tris,_ ugh, come _on_.  Get your lazy ass out of bed.”  I just groan.  The sheets are drenched in sweat but I am freezing cold.  

“This is ridiculous,” the voice mutters, and I open one eye.

Oh.  Amber, from my photography class.  An unfamiliar, generic room with an ugly patterned carpet and heavy drapes.  The class trip.  Right.  We got in last night, and now I am waking up on the first morning of our field trip-- Saturday-- in the motel room.

I slowly sit up and put my head in my hands, elbows resting on my knees.  Every muscle in my body aches, maybe even my bones.  The second I am out from under the blanket I am shivering.

“Fuck,” I mutter.  I think I have a fever but there is no way for me to measure that here in this hotel room.  Amber has gone into the bathroom.  When she comes out, I am sitting in the same position, shaking harder than before.  

“You look like shit,” she says bluntly.

“Thanks.”  I mean to snap at her, but I’m just too weak.  Amber frowns and crosses the room to stand in front of me.  After making me move my hands away from my head, she rests the back of her hand on my forehead.  

“Shit, Tris, you’re burning up.”  I groan and collapse back on the bed.

Amber tells me she’s going to find our professor and leaves the room.  My legs feel almost too heavy to move as I drag myself to the shower.  I wash the sweat off my body and make a half-assed attempt to wash my hair.  I’m positive half the conditioner is still in it when I get out, but I am afraid I will collapse in here if I try to stand any longer.  The warm, humid air feels nice, though.  

I stumble back to bed still wrapped in my towel and climb under the covers on the opposite side from where I slept last night; the sheets still feel fresh over here. Amber is sitting on her bed looking into the mirror of a compact makeup case.

“Dr. Nelson said you don’t have to come since you’re so sick,” Amber tells me.  “He said if you can find a ride home it’s fine for you to leave, and to come talk to him during office hours next week for a make-up assignment.”  She clips the compact shut and stashes it in her purse as she stands.  “Feel better, Tris,” she says on her way out the door.

“Thank you, Amber.”  I hear the door click shut.  I’ll have to remember to thank her again when I see her in school next week.

I look at the clock.  It’s only eight.  I’m sure Eric is sleeping so I don’t bother calling him yet; I set my phone alarm for nine o’clock and the haze of sleep quickly pulls me under.

 

* * *

 

It is eleven o’clock when I call Eric for the eighth time.  Again, he doesn’t pick up.  If anything, I feel worse than I did this morning.  I have to get out of here.  I just want to go home.  I pull up another number on my phone and stare at the contact for several minutes before deciding I have no choice, though I hate to ask him this favor, and tap the button to make the phone call.

He picks up on the second ring.  “Tris?  How’s Indiana?”

I sigh with relief.  “Tobias,” I murmur.  Guilt stabs at me for what I am about to ask; I know he was going to Milwaukee this weekend, and he’s probably already there; while he is hours north of Chicago, I am hours southeast.  “Um… I’m really sick.  I… I have a fever and I just hurt all over.  I can’t get ahold of Eric and I just… I want to go home.”  My voice cracks.  Feeling so awful must be affecting me, I sound like a homesick child.  “I know you have a thing this weekend, and I don’t want to get you in trouble with your dad but if you can… I just… I need a ride.”

I hear rustling on the other end of the line, drawers closing, a zipper.  “Of course, Tris.  I don’t care what Marcus says, anyway.  I’m getting my stuff together now and heading out to the car.”  His voice is soothing, reassuring.  “Just text me the hotel info so I can find directions.  I’ll be there in four or five hours, okay?”

 

* * *

 

I sleep until a knock at the door wakes me.  The clock beside the bed tells me it is just after three o’clock in the afternoon, and a glance at my phone shows that Eric still hasn’t called back.  I had put on sweatpants and a tank top earlier, but I’m still cold, so I pull on a hoodie before I shuffle to the door.  As soon as I open it to let Tobias in, I slump against the wall, already exhausted again.  

Tobias rests his hand against my forehead, the same way Amber did earlier.  “Shit.  Come on.”  He wraps an arm around my waist to support me and leads me back to the bed; there is a paper bag in his opposite hand.  

Once I am sitting again, he dumps the bag out: a bottle of Tylenol and a bottle of water.  He opens the pill bottle, throwing away the cotton stuffed in the top and uncaps the bottle before handing me two pills.  He helps hold the bottled water steady as I put it against my lips and tip it to wash the pills down.

“How did Marcus take you leaving?” I ask.  I’ve been worrying about that.  I don’t know what Marcus might do, with what Tobias has now told me about his father.

Tobias shrugs one shoulder as he gathers up the things I point out as mine.  “I didn’t really give him a chance to say much about it.  I pretty much grabbed my stuff and called out to him as I walked out the door.  So, I suppose I’ll find out what he has to say when I check my phone messages or emails.”

“Good.”  I close my eyes because they just feel too heavy to keep open.  “I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble on my account.”

"Well, I didn’t.  So stop worrying.”  He holds a hand out to help me up.  “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Once I am buckled into his truck, Tobias drapes a soft, blue plaid fleece blanket over me before he hands me a gatorade and a little deli bowl of chicken soup with a plastic spoon.  I can’t believe all the extra trouble he has gone to for me-- thinking to bring me a blanket, stopping somewhere for medicine and comfort food.  I’m so touched I almost cry.

The drive back to Chicago is quiet.  Tobias keeps the music at a low level and softly hums along as I drift in and out of sleep.  When during the times that I am awake, guilt is eating me from the inside out.  All I can think about is the secret I have been keeping from Tobias.  I wish I had told him when it happened.  Now it has been weeks.  I can’t tell him now-- it’s too late.  I just have to live with it.

 

* * *

 

Tobias shakes me awake about an hour from Chicago in some little town in Indiana.  We are parked outside a convenience store.  He holds out two more pills.  I stare at him blankly; he just gave me medicine a few hours ago.

“These are Advil,” Tobias explains.  “You still seem sick and feel too warm.  It should help.”

I nod and thank him.  As he puts the truck in gear again, I check my phone and sigh when I see that there is still no response from Eric.  

“What’s up?” Tobias asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Eric.  I called him eight times before I called you, starting at nine o’clock.  He _still_ hasn’t answered and it’s…” I frown as I check the time on the clock.  “...after five o’clock.”  I don’t miss Tobias’s eyeroll.  I’m not surprised-- I’ve never gotten the feeling that he liked Eric much.

By the time we reach the dorm building, I feel a lot more alert.  “You were right about the Advil,” I tell Tobias, then grin at him playfully.  “You’d make a great nurse.”

Tobias laughs.  “I doubt that.”

“Well, you took awfully good care of me.”

He just shrugs.

In the elevator,I lean against the wall and watch the numbers on the display climb slowly to 10.  When the doors open to the tenth floor, he picks up my bag as well as his own, and checks with me to be sure I’m feeling better and don’t need any additional help.  I smile at him gratefully and thank him again for the medicines and soup he gave me, and tell him that I am actually feeling so much better.  Between the meds and the hours I was able to sleep while Tobias drove, I feel much more alert and steady than I did at the hotel.  Tobias beams at me, as though he is shy about the compliment.  I am overwhelmed as I think of how kind and thoughtful Tobias has been today.  

We are already at the door.

Before we open the door, I turn toward him and look in his eyes.  They are the most beautiful blue I have ever seen.  “Thank you, Tobias,” I say softly.  “Thank you so much.  For everything.”  I lean into his chest and wrap my arms around his waist.

Tobias hugs me back, and we linger there for a long moment.  I feel him sigh into my hair.  Before we step apart, Tobias murmurs, “I’ll always be there for you, Tris.”

Then we step apart, and Tobias unlocks the door, and I step inside first.

The moment it opens, I hear them.

I freeze, shocked, just inside the living room.  I hear voices moaning, the headboard banging against the wall.  Tobias, still carrying my bag, moves swiftly through the entryway with his lips parted and eyes wide.

“Shit!” Tobias curses.  He grabs my arm and begins to pull me toward Eric’s bedroom.  “What a fucking asshole!  How dare he cheat on you, Tris!  Come on, you need to confront him.”  I have a sick feeling in my stomach as we near the door.

Tobias turns the handle and pushes the door open.

Then we see them.

In bed together, butt naked, with her on all fours and him behind her, inside her, gripping her hips with his hands.

Eric and Christina.


	19. Knock Me Down

_**Four**  _   
_Mid-November_

As I fit my key into the keyhole in my dorm room door, I glance at Tris one last time. My mind is still reveling in the feeling of her in my arms as she hugged me a moment ago, leaving me with a heady feeling. These feelings are wrong-- I have a girlfriend who I care about, and Tris has a boyfriend whom she loves. My feelings for Tris are a constant battle; I feel more for her than I should, but I can't just stay away from her. Over the past few months she has become one of the best friends I have ever had, the only person I have ever trusted with my secrets.

I turn the handle and push the door open, holding it so Tris can enter first. I pause to resituate her bag, which is sliding off my shoulder, and see her freeze just as she reaches the living room. I'm about to ask her if something is wrong but I've barely taken the first step toward her when I hear it too. Moaning, the banging of a headboard, all sounds that it doesn't even take me a moment to identify as I have heard them coming from that room so many times before, but always when Tris was in there with Eric.

Tris seems paralyzed as she, too, realizes what is happening in that room, in  _her boyfriend's_  bedroom. A part of me wants to grab her and pull her away from here, take her somewhere else, and the rest of me wants to storm in there and beat the shit out of that bastard for treating Tris this way. The latter wins out and I find myself striding across the entryway and wrapping my fingers around Tris's forearm-- firm and certain, but not in a way that could hurt her, as I blurt out some sort of expletive.

I pull Tris toward Eric's door, ranting as we walk. "What a fucking asshole! Come on, you need to confront him." I'm not sure how long it will take Tris to snap out of it and do this on her own, and I'm sure as hell not letting her wait for him to be finished and dressed, able to claim that she misunderstood what she heard. Tris and I both know what's going on in that room. She deserves to be treated better than this. She needs to be done with this asshole once and for all.

I don't hesitate when we reach the door. But I'm not prepared for what we find behind it.

I expected to see Eric fucking some whore, so that part isn't any surprise. But I didn't expect, on all fours on the bed, taking it from Eric behind her, him gripping her hips as she moans in pleasure, to see my own girlfriend.

I release Tris's arm, standing and staring in horror for only a moment before my body begins to respond to the rage that immediately courses through my veins. My fists clench and I actually see red at the corners of my vision. This all must take only a second because they are just now turning their heads, Eric mid-thrust, in response to the sound of the door opening.

"What the fuck?!" I hear my own voice roar out as they break apart. Christina gasps loudly and actually falls off the bed in her mad scramble away from Eric as I begin to advance toward them. As I cross toward Eric, he's hurriedly pulling on his boxers. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Chris grab Eric's t-shirt off the floor and pull it over her head.

It's a t-shirt I've seen Tris wear as she stumbles sleepily to the bathroom in the mornings. The realization spurs on my rage.

The room isn't that large, so although Eric pulls his boxers on at record speed, I am upon him by the time they make it up to his waist, and my fist is already flying toward his face, colliding with his nose.

Eric swipes at the blood that has begun to stream from his nose before throwing a punch at my stomach, and I quickly sidestep to avoid it before throwing another at Eric's jaw, which he ducks.  The fight would have surely continued until we had nearly destroyed one another and Eric's room-- I'm better trained, but this is clearly not Eric's first fight, either, and while he and I are about the same height, he's got a lot more bulk to him-- but I register the girls' frantic yelling. Chris's hands are on my arm, pulling me in one direction, as Tris pulls Eric in the other. Neither girl could have separated us if we were unwilling to let them, but we both allow ourselves to be pulled away.

I turn to lay into Christina, but Tris's voice catches my attention.

"You fucking son of a bitch," Tris shrieks. "You told me that fucking Chris was a mistake, that it was a one time thing and would never happen again! You were lying to me this whole time, weren't you?!"

What the hell is she talking about? One time thing?

"What?" Christina says, looking at Tris with wide eyes.

"You heard me,  _bitch_ ," Tris snarls at Chris. "I fucking  _saw_  you! Eric  _told me_  all about how you came onto him. What, Four, wasn't enough for you, you needed to fuck my boyfriend, too?! I saw you two fucking in the break room a few weeks ago!" Then she turns on Eric. "And  _you_! I can't believe I ever trusted you! You've been lying to me this whole fucking time!"

A recent memory surfaces, something I overheard Tris say to Eric.

\---

_"Well, if you'll have a fucking conversation with me, you'll know. I'm honestly disgusted that you're making this so damn difficult, Eric. You're on some pretty fucking thin ice as it is," Tris hisses._

_"I thought you were over that," he groans. "I told you, it was a mistake."_

_Tris's voice is tight and strained as she answers, "Of course I'm not_ over it _." I wonder what he did._

\---

I guess I don't need to be confused about  _that_  any more.

 _Tris knew. And she didn't say a word to me._  I push it aside. I can deal with Tris later.

I stop listening as Tris continues screaming at Eric, and turn my focus back on Chris. "Is it true?" I growl. "This... you've... for how long?" Christina just stands there and opens and closes her mouth like a fucking goldfish. "Answer me!" I shout.

"Since last time you went to Milwaukee, in September," she mumbles.

"Two months?! You've been fucking that goddamn  _pincushion_  for two fucking months? And to think that I drove back here early to make up with you that weekend!" I feel disconnected from my body, I can't feel my hands. I feel like such a goddamn moron, my girlfriend was cheating on me for  _two months_  and I stayed with her, had no idea, like an asshole.

It's all coming together now. The way Chris and Eric always were off studying together, riding to work together, the way she has never liked Tris...

"I get it now," I say, running my hand through my hair. "I couldn't figure it out before. You hated Tris so much, right from the start, and I couldn't figure out  _why_ \-- she was nothing but nice to you. But  _now_  I get it. From the moment you met her you were just  _jealous._  And that was all I could figure out, that you were jealous of her friendship with  _me._  But that wasn't it at all, was it?!You were jealous that she was with  _Eric_! It never had anything to do with me, you know, your  _actual boyfriend._ "

Chris just stands there with wide eyes, shaking her head from side to side, but I can see it in her eyes, I was right on with every single word. And even if I wasn't, I can never forgive her for this. Zeke was right anyway-- I should have dumped her even without the cheating. Out of the corner of my eye I see Tris stuffing clothes and other items into a duffel bag, ignoring Eric as he pleads with her, and I hear her shoot back at him that he wasn't good for her anyway, and now it's over, they're done. Forever.

"I'm done, Christina," I tell her flatly, the emotion drained out of me. "This... this is done. We're over. Honestly, we've been over for a while, but you've sealed it now."

Chris bursts into tears, but she doesn't argue. I pick up my bag and toss it over my shoulder-- there's no way I am staying here in this apartment with my asshole roommate tonight and I have enough clothes in the bag I had taken to Marcus's. I stop in the bedroom doorway and turn to Christina one last time. "I hope you're very happy together. Good luck  _trusting_  each other, given how you two started."

I walk steadily and purposefully across the living room, and I can feel Tris's presence right behind me. Good. I've got a bone to pick with her, now, too.

As soon as we are in the hall with the door latched shut behind us, I turn to Tris.

"You knew," I accuse. "You knew Christina had cheated on me, and you didn't tell me." Now that I've said what I need to say to Christina, now that Chris and I are officially over, my mind is free to return to the revelation that Tris caught them cheating and didn't say a damn word. "I trusted you, Tris!"

I run my fingers through my hair, trying to calm myself, as she shrinks back against the wall, biting her lip. "I know," she whispers, her eyes swimming with tears.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me!" I shout. Now I'm pacing back and forth in the middle of the damn hallway. We're lucky no one else is out here to see us right now, I don't need the whole Dauntless dormitory witnessing this.

I trusted her with all my secrets, with things I have  _never_  told  _anyone_ \-- not even Zeke. And all the while she was keeping this from me. I'm angry with Christina and Eric. But Tris... I'm angry with her, too, yeah... but I'm also hurt.

I can see the pain in Tris's eyes, but I'm too upset to care right now. So I don't let up. "Why did you do it, Tris? What, you were too goddamn  _weak_  to leave Eric? Even after  _seeing_ him fuck Christina, with your own eyes, you didn't say a fucking word. If you did, if you told me, you couldn't pretend that it didn't happen, right? You just couldn't find enough self respect for yourself-- or enough respect for  _me_ , your  _friend_ , is that it? I can't believe how fucking selfish you are, Tris! I never expected that from you. All you cared about was what  _you_ needed, what  _you_  wanted. You didn't give a fuck about me!"

"I'm sorry..." she whimpers, a few stray tears streaming down her face. "Tobias--"

"Don't call me that!" I snap, whirling around to face her, even pointing a finger at her face. "You don't get to call me that any more. I was wrong to trust you, Tris. I thought you were better than this," I say, shaking my head, my voice cracking, unable to mask the pain.

"Four..." she tries to start again, but I've already turned, I'm already walking away from her. I hear her break down into a full on sob but I ignore the pull I feel on my heart.

I don't turn. I don't look back.

I just keep walking.


	20. Breaking the Girl

_**Tris** _   
_Mid-November_

It is eight PM and I can finally turn off the cafe's OPEN sign and lock the door. I finish the last of the clean-up and count out the till before I climb the stairs to the small apartment upstairs and sink onto my bed. Well, actually, it's a couch. But it's where I sleep now.

"Thanks for closing everything down tonight," Tori says. "It's nice to have a break."

"Don't thank me until you confirm that I didn't totally fuck up the till." I yawn, and I wish I could say it was only for effect, but that would be a lie. "I'm exhausted." Tori just chuckles. I just drag myself off the couch to start catching up on my schoolwork. I missed my classes Monday and part of Tuesday, between moving my stuff and still being sick. Okay, if I'm being honest, the only reason I missed part of Tuesday was that I wasn't ready to walk into my English Lit class and face Four and Marlene.

The past few days have left me completely drained. When Tobias- no,  _Four_ \- walked away from me in that hallway I didn't know what to do. Unless I went back to my dorm room with Molly, which wasn't going to happen, I was homeless. So I called Tori. After all, she said I could always come to her.

_*Flashback:*_

> _After Tobias disappears into the stairwell, I slide down the wall with tears streaming down my face. I am not sure how long I sit there, it could be minutes or it could be hours. Christina and Eric are still in the apartment. I dread going back in there, but I will have to. I have the duffel bag full of my stuff, but I forgot to pick up my school bag. Even worse, I left it just inside the door to Eric's room._ _Finally I pull myself together enough to go back in and grab my bag, which is now sitting nicely by the door. I wonder if Eric did that, or if it was Christina. I am done with Eric no matter what, but seeing my backpack sitting there waiting for me still feels like a knife to my heart. After I remove my key to the apartment from my key ring and hastily drop it on the kitchen counter, I only pause for a moment before throwing the backpack over my shoulder and hurrying back out._
> 
> _I wander, and find myself sitting on a bench outside. The medicine Four gave me is beginning to wear off and I just want to lay my head down. But I have nowhere to do so._
> 
> _No. As completely alone as I feel, there is still someone who cares for me. I pull out my phone and scroll through my recent calls, and my eyes land on a name:_ Tori.  _I don't hesitate now, I just place the call._
> 
> " _Hey, Tris, how's Indiana?" she answers._
> 
> _At the sound of her voice, all the strength I had gathered back up crumbles and I break into sobs. I can't get words out, which isn't very good on the telephone. But I don't need to._
> 
> " _Tris, where are you? I'll come get you." She doesn't even know if I am in this state, and she's offering to come for me._
> 
> " _In front of the dorm," I manage to choke out._
> 
> " _I'll be there in ten."_
> 
> _Twenty minutes later I am sitting in Tori's little kitchen in her apartment above the cafe. I take the fever reducers she handed me with a few sips of water while she busies herself wordlessly in the kitchen._
> 
> _"Here you go," Tori says. She hands me a steaming mug that smells like peppermint. I hold it with both hands, my fingers prickling with warmth._
> 
> _She sits down across from me. I managed to calm down enough by the time she picked me up, that i was able to at least give her a basic explanation of what happened._
> 
> " _Drink it," she says. "It will make you feel better, I promise."_
> 
> " _I don't think tea is the solution," I say slowly. But I sip it anyway. It warms my mouth and my throat and trickles into my stomach. I didn't realize how deeply cold I was until I wasn't any more._
> 
> "' _Better' is the word I used. Not 'good'." She smiles at me, but the corners of her eyes don't crinkle like they usually do. "I don't think 'good' will happen for a while."_
> 
> _I just nod, and we sit there silently for a minute._
> 
> " _I don't have a place to live," I state. "Can I sleep here tonight?"_
> 
> _Tori nods. "You can sleep here every night." I look up at that, and my eyebrows raise. "I don't mind, Tris. I don't have an extra bedroom, but the couch is open, as long as you need it."_
> 
> " _I'll work extra hours as payment," I offer, and she shakes her head to say no, insisting that the extra hours at work are unnecessary. "Tori, please. I don't want to live off of anyone else. I'm an adult, I need to pay my way in this world."_
> 
> _Tori sighs. "If it's important to you, I won't argue, Tris. But please know that it isn't necessary. I'm just happy you're finally done with Eric." Her face twists as if she tasted something sour when she says his name._
> 
> " _But you were supportive of my working it out with him, before," I point out. "I mean, I know you didn't know about what I saw in the break room then, but…"_
> 
> _Tori looks at me, studying my face for a moment, before she answers. "I wanted you to make the choice, Tris. You're an adult," she says with a smile, echoing the words I spoke a moment ago, "and fully capable of making your own decisions. If I had just told you to dump him, that it was the only option, would you have listened?" I look down and shake my head. "No, you wouldn't have. You weren't going to be done until_ you  _were ready to be done. And I think you needed to try, you needed to see that it couldn't be fixed, so what you needed from me was some guidance about how one goes about trying to 'fix' a relationship. Some relationships_ are  _worth it. That one wasn't."_
> 
> _A tear slips down my cheek as she pulls me into her arms. She's right, it was never worth fixing, but I had to be ready. He was my_ everything  _for so long, I just couldn't let that go, even though i should have._

_*End flashback*_

With a groan, I push myself up and plant my feet on the floor. My backpack is within reach, right here next to the couch, and I pull out my notebook and rifle through my books until I find what I need to be prepared for English Lit tomorrow. Time to face the music. I can't avoid Four forever.

I set up at the table, sitting across from Tori as she does the bookkeeping for the cafe. Earlier I dropped my notebook and all the papers fell out. I stuffed them back in but now they're all out of order, so it takes me a minute to sift through it all and find my assignment. I pause as I come across something I had stuffed in there a month ago, then had quickly forgotten. It's an application for a study abroad program.

"Hey, Tori…" I say, breaking the silence in the room. "I have this application for a year abroad at a university in London." Tori raises her eyebrows, the corners of her lips turning up into almost a smile. I'm nervous even talking about this idea, though I don't know why. I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants legs. "The application is due next week… I mean… I don't know. What do you think? Should I do it?" I shake my head at myself. "I probably wouldn't even get in…"

"You don't know unless you try," she interrupts. "If you are offered a spot, you still have a choice whether to accept it, but I think it would be good for you. You're young and nothing is in your way. This is a good opportunity to see the world."

I bite my lip as I look over the application, nodding slowly.

"I'll even be sure to have a position open for you at the cafe when you get back," she says with a wink.

Maybe I should. She's right, there is so much to see in the world, and what better time than now, when there is absolutely nothing to hold me back? No family, no boyfriend, I can't even be sure that I still have friends at this point. If I am ever going to do something like this, now is the time. I push off my English assignment till later and begin filling in the application, and my heart feels lighter. This is for  _me._  It is time I put myself first.

* * *

The next morning, I leave extra early to walk to campus. I need to make my weekly visit to the housing department. Actually, given the current situation, I may make it a bi-weekly visit.

Sherri, the same middle-aged redhead I dealt with the first time I came to check on my dormitory transfer, is at the desk today. I have only seen her one other time during my numerous visits. I can see by the sour look on her face that she remembers me when I approach the counter.

"How can I help you?" she asks, sounding annoyed. I roll my eyes.

"I am here to check on my dorm transfer request…  _again._ " I give her my name and wait, once again, while she looks things up in her computer. The ticking sound of the clock and the clicking of her fingernails on the keyboard grate on my nerves. I have spent far too much time visiting this office. This is ridiculous.

"Still nothing available," she tells me, sounding bored. "We will contact you when something opens up."

I snort. "Yeah, I've heard that one before, but if you recall, someone in  _this office_  seriously dropped the ball. So forgive me for not trusting you all to do your jobs. At this point, I am paying for  _two_ places to live in order to avoid the bullying in my own dorm room. I shouldn't have to  _pay_  to live with a bully, especially when the people in this office lost my application, and still can't find me a comparable place to live," I rant.

Sherri stares at me with a blank face, then goes back to typing. I huff, and she holds up a finger asking me to wait.

"Okay, Beatrice," she says, her voice sounding much softer than before. "I can't get you into a room at the same rate right now. But there's a room on the fourth floor of Dauntless which will be opening up the Monday after finals. The current resident will be graduating this term. I can also credit some extra points to your dining card for next semester as an apology." Sherri looks at me hopefully, and I smile in relief.

"Thank you. Having a plan in place helps. You can still expect to see me back here checking up on things weekly, though, just in case something else opens." Sherri nods and gives me a kind smile.

I leave the housing office feeling strong and capable. I stood up for myself, and the result may not have been the best case scenario I had hoped for, but it is definitely better than being turned away empty handed.

I stop at the dining hall in the quad for breakfast; I have paid for the dining points, so I may as well use them, rather than using my cash to buy more food to eat at Tori's. I avoid the dormitory's dining hall, though, not wanting to bump into not only Eric and Christina, but Four and his friends. They are probably almost as mad at me as Four is.

As the time for English Lit grows nearer, the knot in my stomach tightens. I don't want to go there, don't want to see Four and Marlene, don't want to see the disappointment and disgust in their eyes. Unfortunately, I want to pass this class- hopefully with a good grade- so I cannot avoid it forever.  _Be brave,_  I tell myself. It seems so silly, telling myself to be brave just to face a simple English class, but sometimes the small moments are almost as scary as the big ones. Sometimes the small decisions can change your life- like being too lazy and rushed to lock the front door, or choosing to come home early from a class trip. I've learned not to underestimate the potential power of what may seem insignificant.

I step inside the classroom, and I'm not sure what to do. Should I sit in my usual chair as if nothing happened? I'm sure Four won't speak to me, but Marlene will. She has texted me a few times since the weekend, but I haven't answered. I don't know what to say. I'm not ready to defend myself. Maybe I never will be, because I can't really think of any sort of defense for withholding that information from Four. No wonder I didn't have friends before coming here- I'm terrible at it.

I see Marlene in her usual seat and Four across the room. The round girl sits in his seat again, and she seems to be watching the door for me to enter, because she meets my eyes, glaring, as soon as I step inside.

After a moment's hesitation, I make my way to my usual seat and sit down next to Marlene. Her eyebrows raise, she looks startled to see me. "Well, I'm glad to see you're alive- you haven't responded to my texts!" She sounds a little frustrated, but mostly concerned. I am surprised- I had expected her to hate me after she heard what happened. I'm sure Four had only scathing comments to make about me.

I try to smile but I know it's coming out as more of a grimace. "I'm sorry, Mar. I wasn't ready to talk to anyone. I figured everyone's probably mad at me."

Marlene nods and sighs. "Even so… you're my friend, Tris. You made some mistakes, but I still care about you. You and Eric were together for a long time and you walked in on... " Mar trails off and purses her lips. "Well, I was just worried."

I'm so relieved hearing her words, knowing that she isn't abandoning me because of my poor choices. We talk for a minute and I fill her in on my new living situation with Tori, and apologize for ignoring her texts.

But soon the lecture begins and we must focus on our class. Four makes a point not to even look in my direction the entire time we are in the classroom. Before we each move on to our next classes, though, we make plans to have lunch together in the quad today.

I watch Marlene walk away, still amazed that she will even speak to me, let alone show me such kindness.

* * *

Lunch with Marlene was really nice. I replay our conversation as I work the espresso machine, deliver drinks, and bus tables. Mar acknowledged that the way I handled my first time catching Eric wasn't good, but that she also understood how hard it must have been on me. She said that I was going through enough right now, and a lecture wouldn't do me any good- I already know what I did wrong without her nagging me about it. She suspected I got enough of an earful from Four already.

Uriah ended up joining us for the last few minutes. At first it was a little awkward, like he was trying to decide how to word what he needed to say. Eventually he came out with it and told me how disappointed he was that I hadn't thought more about Four when I chose to keep what I saw a secret- not just because Four is a close friend of his, but because it simply would have been the right thing to do. I was relieved when he moved on; "It's not my fight, this is between you and Four, and I consider you both friends. I just needed to address the elephant in the room," he finished.

After saying his piece, though, he was making jokes in an attempt to cheer me up. I have to say, it worked. He suggested that I should avoid Zeke and Shauna for a while- they're closer with Four than he and Marlene are and are are still pretty mad. But he said not to worry, Zeke doesn't hold grudges, he just doesn't like to see his best friend hurting and he'll get over it eventually. I can't blame him; I'm pretty mad at myself, and don't like to see Four hurting, either.

As for Four and Christina… Uriah told me that Four is definitely angry, but he didn't go into any further detail. Christina, apparently, is getting the cold shoulder from everyone, but doesn't seem to care- she been hanging out with Peter, Drew and Molly, as well as, of course, Eric, and seems to be fitting in as if they are all old friends. Eric and Christina appear to be dating. While I wouldn't take Eric back no matter how much he begged, that hurts to hear.

I can't fault any of them for being angry, honestly- I see how wrong I was now. I was too caught up in my own hurt feelings to think it through clearly, and then Four and I had that fight and weren't even speaking anyway. By the time we made up, I felt like it was too late to say something.

But when it is quiet, his words replay in my mind again and again.  _Were you too goddamn_ weak  _to leave Eric? ... You just couldn't find enough self respect for yourself- or enough respect for_ me _, your_ friend _, is that it? I can't believe how fucking selfish you are, Tris! ... All you cared about was what_ you  _needed, what_ you  _wanted. You didn't give a fuck about me!_

And the worst part is… he's right. He's right about all of it. I was weak, I was selfish, and I was a terrible friend. I don't deserve him in my life.

I sigh when I see the full trash can behind the counter, and I tie up the bag and bring it out back to the dumpster. After I wash my hands, I return to the front counter to see Tori assembling a large order of drinks and pastries.

"Tris," she says brightly. A little  _too_  brightly. I'm not going to like whatever she is about to say. I raise an eyebrow. "Amar is rewarding one of his classes with these treats. I need you to deliver it."

I gulp. She wants  _me_  to deliver? To where Four is? I can't do that. He's furious with me. "No," I say flatly. "No, no, no, no… I can't walk in there! Not with Four there! You know how angry with me he is," I whine.

"Yes, yes, yes. This is your job, Tris, and that is your personal life. I'm sure Four can be professional, and I know you can too. Besides, you can't just hide for the rest of the school year to avoid seeing him."

I groan. I'm not getting out of this.

I balance box carefully in my hands before crossing the street. When I reach the dojo, I push the door open with my hip. I nearly wince when the bell chimes, as if I had planned on sneaking away. That, I definitely cannot do. Tori would be pissed.

And, of course, it is Four who comes to accept the order.

"Uh..." I stammer, "hey. I, um, have Amar's order." I feel my cheeks getting hot, and I keep my head down. In this moment, with Four standing in front of me, his anger and disapproval radiating off him in waves, I just can't look at him.

"Thanks." His voice is cold and detached, and I feel both a pain stabbing at my heart, and a longing in my soul.

I can't remember what else I am supposed to do, and I know I look like an idiot, standing here awkwardly. I have to think, I can't think. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, and finally remember the receipt. I pull it out of my apron pocket. "We need a signature," I say, thrusting the papers toward him.

"I'll get a pen," he says gruffly when I don't think to hand him one. I forgot to bring one, anyway. When he is done, I grab the receipt without looking at Four, handing him the yellow carbon copy and stuffing the white piece in my apron pocket.

"Uh, well… see ya," I say sadly as I turn away from him and leave.

And Four says nothing.


	21. Taste the Pain

_**Tris** _   
_Thanksgiving Day_

Throughout my childhood, my parents worked hard to instill humility and gratitude in Caleb and me. Thanksgiving was always one of our "biggest" family holidays. Mom would cook a huge meal, and in our home, we would serve a large variety of people from our town. Most of them had one thing in common: either they had no family to spend the holiday with, or they were unable to travel to see the family they did have.

On "Black Friday," instead of hitting the stores, we would make sandwiches with the extra turkey Mom would have roasted on Wednesday especially for this purpose. Then we would take them- along with portions of whatever else was leftover from Thursday's big dinner- into Chicago and wander the streets, handing them out to those in need. The thing I liked best about those times with my mom was the way she would talk to the people we were serving. She didn't treat the transients she was meeting as a charity case, she didn't look at them with pity. She had real conversations, as their equal, and she treated them with the same respect she would give a fellow member of our church or my school principal.

I spent the past two Thanksgiving holidays with Eric's family. Though uncomfortable, I wasn't alone, at least. But this year, I am completely, totally alone. All of my friends had family commitments- most of them in other states. Tori- along with her brother, George, and Amar- flew to Florida to spend the holiday with her parents. I dropped her off at the airport last night and will pick her up on Saturday. She is kindly lending me her car while she is away. Meanwhile, I am in charge of the cafe. I offered to open it today, but Tori said that there is little business on Thanksgiving, and she doesn't want me working all alone like that anyway- nor does she want to take any of her other employees away from their families today.

I sigh at the irony. My parents always warmly welcomed those with no family to our home for dinner on this day, and now that I am the one without a family, wishing for someone to spend the holiday with, my parents are dead and gone, and there is nowhere for me to go. Even with this being my third holiday season without them, it catches me off guard how painful and lonely it is. I don't even want to imagine how Christmas might feel this year.

Unable to stand the silence in the apartment any longer, I decide that I will have my dinner with my parents, anyway. I drive Tori's car back to my hometown, stopping at McDonald's- one of the few places open today- and sit for hours between my parents' graves, eating stale cheeseburgers. Most of the time I am silent, but here and there I reminisce aloud about Thanksgivings past.

I wish I could hear my father answer me, I wish I could hear my mother's laugh. I miss them.

Sometimes I feel a little crazy, talking to corpses buried six feet underground, but I do it anyway. I smile when I think of how I introduced them to Four, and he talked to them as if they were here, too. I wish they could have met him, even if he refuses to speak to me now. I try to push him from my mind, but he creeps back in, again and again. I wonder what holidays are like for him with Marcus, and I hope that he hasn't lost that spark of courage he felt when we were on the rooftop. He may not want me in his life, but I want good things for him.

It starts to snow, but I don't get up. I stay until the grass is blanketed in white and my teeth are chattering uncontrollably. I make a snow angel on each of their graves- something Mom always liked to do with Caleb and me- and walk slowly back to Tori's car, to return to the lonely silence of Tori's apartment.

* * *

_**Tobias** _   
_Thanksgiving Day_

The silence is tense, but not in the usual way that silence can be unnerving. Really, it's simply because I  _always_  feel tense when I am around Marcus. One simple misstep could unleash the monster at any moment. I look only at my plate.

I waited as long as possible to leave Chicago, giving Marcus an excuse about a group project I needed to work on Wednesday night. It was a lie- there is a group project, but most of the other students left early Wednesday to their homes. Until I walked in the front door of Marcus's house an hour ago, I had only communicated with him via email since my last visit- the visit I abruptly cut short without even a moment's notice when I received Tris's call for help.

Other than a few stiff words for the sake of professionalism and good manners when she delivered drinks and muffins to the dojo last week, I haven't spoken to Tris since the night we caught Eric and Christina- not for a lack of effort on her part; she has tried to approach me a couple of times, but I have turned and walked away, and I ignored her call this last weekend, as well as her three texts requesting to talk with me. I don't want to hear her excuses.

Although I am actively ignoring her, though, I have thought about her plenty, as there are many things which remind me of her. For example, I had to map a new route for my morning jogs, not because I thought I would bump into her- I don't think she is staying at the dorms as I haven't seen her there, so she likely has a new route, too- but because the route and every landmark on it made me think of her. Then again, on my new route, I am always thinking of how much better Tris's route was, and that just makes me think of her as well. I can't win.

"How are your classes coming along, son?" Marcus asks. I cringe at the word "son", but mask it quickly. Even when I am sitting across from Marcus and can't forget him for even a moment, I still wince at any reminder of my connection to him.

I give him brief details about each class, all of which I am fairly certain I am holding solid A- or higher marks in. Well, all except English Lit- I know the paper I just handed in was well below my usual standards. Tris understood the material well, so I normally would have asked to talk the assignment through with her, but she ruined our friendship with her lies.

I am careful with every word, taking time to choose the right ones, but not so long that he notices. He nods along, offering no praise, but also very little criticism. Then he begins asking about my personal life and the tension throughout my body coils a little tighter.

"And that tramp you'd been dating, are you still done with her? I certainly hope you didn't go back to that trash," he asks coldly, and his insults toward Christina upset me in a different way than they have in the past. Before, I have always felt angry and protective. This time, they hit me like a blow to the stomach. He was right about Chris. I will never admit that to him, though. I won't give him that satisfaction.

I struggle to keep my face emotionless. "Yeah, we're done. Done for good." He gives a satisfied nod before digging the knife in a lot deeper.

"And how is Beatrice? She's a nice girl. Is she well?"

The pain of thinking about Tris is masked by panic. This conversation can't go there. If we talk about her being sick a few weekends ago, we will discuss the way I took off without his permission a few weekends ago. And when I say discuss, I mean that I will listen while he berates me, and then have some quality time with his belt. At the time- when I chose to defy Marcus by leaving so abruptly- I didn't care what might come from it. This was Tris, and she needed help. I  _wanted_  to be the one she could turn to, fuck the consequences. My feelings changed in the blink of an eye once we got back to my apartment, though.

"Yessir," I say quietly. "She's fine. Seems to be working a lot, so I haven't seen her much lately." It's the truth, that she seems to be working a lot. I see her through the window of the cafe with every shift I work. She must practically live there lately. That's fine, I don't want to see her around the dormitory, anyway.

Marcus wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin and sets it on the table, leaning back in his seat, scrutinizing me. Dread is already building in the pit of my stomach.

"You were very eager to run right out and save her last weekend. You were in your car before I could even respond to your shouts about leaving to help her." I simply shouted to him that I was leaving early so I could help Tris, literally as I ran out of Marcus's front door. Had I stopped and actually  _talked_  with him about it, he would have forbade me to leave. It was enough rebellion to leave without his permission, but to do so  _after_  he had expressly forbidden it… I didn't know if I could follow through with that.

Marcus eyes are darkening with anger. "Then you ignored my phone calls." Yeah, that was probably a big mistake. "Initially I was impressed with Beatrice." Marcus hated her nickname when he learned it on Visiting Day, but the name Beatrice is just so wrong for her. "However, I can see what a strong influence she has on you- I didn't raise my son to be so disrespectful on behalf of some silly little girl, running after the little temptress as though she were some sort of goddess. I underestimated her; she is a terrible influence and I will not have  _my son_  behaving this way. Should I expect to see any more of this  _Tris_  obsession from you, son?" His eyes are beginning to resemble black pits. Or maybe, in my anxiety, I am hallucinating.

"No, sir." I don't even speak to her any more, anyway, and have no plans to in the future.

"Good," Marcus says, and for a moment, just a split second, I think that he is giving me another chance, that there will be no punishment today.

I could not have been more wrong.

Marcus stands, motioning with a small wave of his hand for me to stand as well. "Shirt," he says shortly. My muscles move automatically to obey him, crossing in front of my stomach. I can't feel my fingers. But I still manage to pinch the hem of both my sweater and the plain white t-shirt underneath together, pulling them over my head in a swift, smooth movement.

"It seems you would benefit from a reminder so that you are not so tempted to disobey in the future, hmm?" There is no point in arguing, so I say nothing. Marcus unbuckles his belt. I can't feel the palms of my hands.

"I believe I asked you a question, Tobias." Marcus slides his belt out of the belt loops. Even with all I have seen, all I have been through, the intensity of the rage I see in Marcus's eyes makes me stop breathing.

"Y-yes, sir." I can't feel my face.

Which is good, because then it doesn't hurt as much when he unexpectedly drops the belt and punches me in the jaw. I take a few hits to my face and ribs before he slowly folds the buckle end over a few times, making the strip of leather the ideal length for his purposes.

I don't wait for the command, I just do it. I turn around and grip the table and grit my teeth, and I don't have to wait long.

"This is for your own good." The six words he says before every punishment.

The first lash shoots white-hot pain through me, and as more come, criss-crossing the earlier marks, I stifle my screams. All I can think of is how I got here: I helped a girl that I  _thought_  was my friend, a girl I  _thought_  I could trust. I'm taking punishments for  _her…_  and she couldn't even give me the courtesy of her honesty when she saw my girlfriend fucking some guy who wasn't me.

I had been ready to stand up for myself. That night on the rooftop, I had felt this surge of confidence and courage, and it was still there when Tris called me for help. When I was so inspired by her standing up to Eric, I had  _no idea_  what was really happening. I didn't know the whole story yet, and it wasn't what I thought...  _she_  wasn't what I thought. She wasn't brave. And she  _knew it._ I  _told_  her where that courage I was feeling had come from, what it had been inspired by. She sat there and listened,  _knowing_  her dirty little secret- Christina and Eric's secret, actually- and was too cowardly to say a word about it.

And because of that bullshit streak of courage, I had even defied Marcus. All it did was make him more determined to put me in my place more firmly than ever before; this is a new level of pain, probably the worst beating I have ever endured. And I am letting him do it. I'm not fighting back, I can't bring even worse upon myself if I'm not sure I will be strong enough to follow through with an attempt to stand against him. That confidence and courage, in the last couple of weeks, has been drowned out by other emotions: anger, loneliness, sadness, pain.

I can't leave, either. Look what that got me last time; I don't want to know what my next visit would be like if I took off without his permission at any point this weekend. I can't avoid him forever. I have a feeling this "lesson" won't be enough for Marcus. He has the entire long weekend to torture me.

And the whole time, one thought recurs:  _This is because I helped Tris. This is her fault._ It echoes again and again in my mind, over my screams through gritted teeth and the sickening crack of the belt, distracting me from the blood I see dripping onto the tile floor, until my vision goes black around the edges and the world around me dips and sways, and I collapse on the floor, succumbing to the pain. I want more than anything to lose consciousness, so I won't have to feel it anymore, but I'm not that fortunate. My body is well accustomed to pain and I find no relief.

I expect Marcus to keep going, but he doesn't. Hesitantly, I turn my head to look at him and see him wiping the blood off his belt and putting it back on. He doesn't look at me, even when he addresses me a moment later.

"Get your weak, pathetic ass off the floor," he orders me. "You've got a lot of dishes to wash."


	22. The Righteous and the Wicked

 

_**Tobias** _   
_Early December_

I select the playlist I made three weeks ago- the one without any songs by my favorite band, because they all remind me of Tris- and lay down on the couch, closing my eyes. I'm bored of this music, but there's nothing else to listen to. I have nothing to do, so I'm doing nothing. For the past three weeks, I've been pretty much just… existing. And avoiding my own dorm room as much as possible. I put in a request for a transfer to a new room last week, but my only option was with a female roommate. I declined. I can deal with Eric until they get me a room when the semester ends in a few weeks, as much as I hate him. We avoid each other well, anyway.

Zeke rudely tugs at the cord to my earbuds, and abruptly the music quiets to the point I can barely hear it as the earphones are pulled from my ears. "What the hell, Zeke?!" I complain. "You could have broken them!"

Zeke rolls his eyes. "And you'd go buy a comparable replacement pair for three dollars. You know these are shit, Four."

I scowl at him as I sit up. "Can't you just let me listen to my music in peace?"

My best friend rolls his eyes and sits down next to me. "No. And I will tell you why. Reason number one: that isn't  _your music._  You don't even like this shit." I don't say anything, because he's right.

Zeke nods with satisfaction at my silent agreement.

"Reason number two: you're moping… on  _my couch._  One day, sure. It's been three weeks, Four."

"Would  _you_  want to be home and around Uriah if he had slept with Shauna? You can't seriously blame me, Zeke."

"Don't even go there," he growls, and I smirk at him. I proved my point. "Don't give me that face. I love Shauna. You never loved Christina. We both know Eric and Chris aren't the reason you're still mad. Though I have to say, I still wouldn't want to see Eric, in your shoes."

"Are you done?" I groan, hoping this conversation is over.

"No. Reason number three: I am constantly inviting you out but you don't come. But we are changing that. I am going to a party tonight, and  _you_  are coming with me."

I stare at him blankly, then very firmly say, "No, Zeke. I will not be going to any party."

"Yes, you will. Look, Mar didn't invite Tris, so she shouldn't be there. You need to get the hell  _out_  and do  _something_ besides listen to crappy music on my couch or stare at your DVD collection trying to find a movie that doesn't make you think of Tris." I just scowl. Tris ruined zombie movies for me, too. "Tobias Eaton," - I glare at him for using my given name - "you are getting the fuck out of this dorm with me.  _Tonight_. Maybe I should get you a purse and some pretty pink lipstick, because you are acting like a lovesick, heartbroken  _girl._ "

I look up so fast it makes my neck hurt. Well,  _that_  got my attention. I'm Four Eaton. I don't act like a sappy little  _girl._  "Fine," I grit.

Zeke does a stupid little happy dance. How am I friends with this clown? "I knew I could talk you into it! And we'll get you good and drunk, you'll forget all about the shit you're mad about, and you can find some other hottie to hook up with." I roll my eyes but I don't argue. "Now get your ass up to your own dorm room and get dressed."

I groan and glare as I leave his apartment, but I don't mean it. Zeke is a good friend, and he just wants me to get back to my normal self.

* * *

The party is held in a house just a few blocks off campus. It isn't too crowded yet, and booze of all kinds is plentiful. Zeke bumps fists with the host- apparently they know each other from a class or something- who tells us where to find the alcohol. Getting drunk very sounds appealing tonight, so I make a beeline for the kitchen and pour a generous couple of inches of rum into a red plastic cup before topping it off with most of a can of coke. I stay in the kitchen to finish it, planning to give myself a refill, but instead I grab a couple beers as Zeke drags me off to play beer pong.

We play against two guys that look vaguely familiar: Sean, who is tall and bulky with curly blonde hair, and Ryker, who is a couple inches shorter than me with a wiry build, olive skin, and dark hair. He has a pierced eyebrow and a cocky, mischievous smile. When he says something to his friend, I notice that his tongue is pierced. He's beginning to remind me of Eric, the human pin cushion.

Zeke and I win the first game, and I'm feeling pretty good by the end of it. Sean and Ryker challenge us to a rematch and Sean goes to the kitchen for more beer to refill the cups with.

We're evenly matched, each team having six cups left, when Sean nudges Ryker and says, "I saw Coffee Shop Girl in the kitchen. She's looking  _good_  tonight, too." Ryker smirks and he gets this glint in his eye.

"Which one?" Ryker asks. "The brunette from the Starbucks, or the blonde at that little shop off campus?" My mouth goes dry. I know who the blonde at the little shop off-campus is. Zeke looks at me with concern.

"The blonde," Sean answers, and Ryker grins as he bounces a ball into a cup.

The knowledge that Tris is here is sobering, and knowing the prick across the table has his eye on her makes my blood pressure rise. Zeke seems to realize this. "You take my turn, Four. I'll go grab you another drink." I nod, silently thanking him.

I try to only concentrate on the game, but I down the jungle juice Zeke brings me pretty quickly, and I'm too drunk to care that Tris is somewhere at this party when Zeke checks his phone. "Oh! Shauna, Uri and Mar are here, now. Come on, I gotta dance with my girl." Well, this is going to suck. Me... and two couples.

Luckily, I have good friends, and Uriah hangs out with me on a couch, both of us sipping on bottles of beer, while Marlene is across the room talking with Tris and some girl that she seems to have tagged along with.

The other girl has strawberry blonde hair and is quite a bit taller than Tris, and that's as much as I notice about her. My eyes are glued to Tris. Her dress is all black and fitted around the top, and it showcases the tattoos on her collarbone. The dress has no sleeves, and falls to mid-thigh. I've never seen her in anything like that before; her friend must have wrangled her into it. She looks amazing. Her long golden hair falls over her right shoulder in some sort of fancy braid, and her eyeliner makes her gray-blue eyes piercing.

"You're staring," Uriah says, and gives me a knowing look. Whatever, it doesn't need to be said aloud, everyone knows it, including me. I was falling for Tris even while I was dating Christina. I liked her. I am still attracted to her. And I hate her at the same time.

I don't answer Uriah, and he sighs. "Can't you just forgive her already? You're torturing yourself, man. Seriously, how is it helping you to spend weeks on end pouting? You feel bad, she's hurting too...how long are you going to punish her?" I don't answer him.

I keep staring, and she stares back for a moment. Her eyes look sad, and a little glazed over. But just then, that asshole I was playing beer pong with- Ryker, the smaller, darker one- approaches her and holds out his hand. She smiles at him and lets him lead her onto the dance floor. Marlene says something else to the girl she and Tris were talking with, then comes back to join Uriah and me.

I greet Marlene, but I'm curious who Tris came here with, so I ask, "Who were you talking to over there?"

"Uh, Tris and her friend Amber," Marlene answers, and I can tell she's trying to read me. Marlene hates conflict and probably wants more than anyone for me to reconcile with Tris. "Tris knows her from photography class. I didn't talk to her long- after that guy led Tris away to dance, it was a little awkward, since I don't really know her." I flinch when she mentions Ryker, and my eyes settle on Tris's small figure with his taller one on the dance floor.

My grip on my beer bottle tightens and I take a long pull from it when I see how close he is to her. His hands are on her hips, and his mouth is near her ear. I look away, my fists clenched. I feel like a tightly coiled spring that is about to snap.

 _You have no right to be jealous,_  I reason with myself as Marlene pulls Uriah onto the dance floor.  _She isn't yours. She never has been._  At the same time I know that isn't entirely true. In some sense, we were beginning to belong to each other, even if we had never talked about it. Even if, at the time, it was wrong.

Zeke comes to sit down beside me, and I try not to look at Tris, but I continue glancing at her; I can't keep my eyes off her for long.

"Where's Shauna?" I ask him.

"She went to powder her nose," he says in a girly voice, and I snort. "How's the self-torture going over here?" I glare at him and he shakes his head. "I don't know what the fuck else to call it. You're watching the girl you're hopelessly in love with- but refuse to speak to- looking hella sexy while she dances with some asshole. You're jealous as hell, but it's killing you. You won't be with her, but you don't want anyone else to be, either."

His read on the situation is sickeningly accurate.

I sigh and scrub my face with my hand. "Uriah says she feels awful. He asked when I'm going to forgive her, how long I'm going to  _punish_  her." I look at Zeke. "I don't even know if that's what I'm trying to do."

"Do you  _want_  to forgive her?" I don't have an answer to that, so I just shrug. "Has she apologized?"

"No…" I trail off. And it's true, she hasn't apologized… but she might be trying to, given the dozens of phone calls, text messages, and emails I've received requesting that I let her speak with me.

"And is that because she isn't sorry? Or because you won't speak to her?" I glare at Zeke; he knows the answer to that. "Has she tried to talk to you?"

"Yes," I groan. "Frequently."

"You have every right to be mad at her," Zeke tells me. "But you're miserable. So, maybe you should think about hearing what she has to say. Talk to her."

What the hell? Since when is Zeke defending Tris? "I can't even count on my best friend to be on my side?!" I exclaim. This sounds  _very_  different from what I've been hearing from him for the past three weeks. Did Marlene get to him?!

"Four." Zeke lets out an exasperated sigh. "This is me being  _on your side._  You miss her. You are miserable. You haven't even let her apologize. Come on, it isn't like she killed your puppy." What Zeke is saying makes sense. But then I remember how much I opened up to her, and the hurt and anger is nearly fresh again.

I look at the dance floor again and see Tris still dancing with Ryker, but this time facing each other with some space between them. She's facing away from me, so I can't see whether she's having fun, but I'm sure she is, if she's still dancing with him.

"I'm gonna get another drink," I mumble and I stumble toward the kitchen. I didn't realize how unsteady I was until I got up. But it isn't enough yet; I want to forget all about Tris Prior for a while.

In the kitchen, a girl is mixing more jungle juice. The amount of alcohol she's adding is obscene. She flashes me a bright smile. "Want some?" she asks.

"Please." As she finishes making the punch, I look her over. She is tall and curvy, with tan skin and her hair and eyes are dark brown, almost black. She's basically the anti-Tris.

"So, what's your name, handsome?" the girl asks me with a sexy smile as she hands me a red plastic cup of jungle juice.

"Four." I drink half the cup at once. "And you?"

"Nita." She smiles and I smile back as she takes a step closer to me.

* * *

_**Tris** _

The whole time I am dancing with Ryker, I am keenly aware of Four sitting on a couch across the room. I can feel him watching me.

Ryker is handsome, but when he smiles, it's with an arrogance that only boys who have always been handsome- and have always known it- have in their smiles. He's a semi-regular customer at the cafe, and a relentless flirt. And he's not the one I want to be dancing with. The one I  _want_  to dance with won't speak to me, and believe me, I have tried. And tried. And tried some more.

But Four wants nothing to do with me. So, with the encouragement of Amber, a photography classmate that is quickly becoming my friend, and Marlene, I went to the dance floor with Ryker and decided to let loose for the night. The three cups of jungle juice help, too; one more and I'd probably be too unsteady to be out here with him. But I can manage three. After all the time spent with Eric, I can hold my liquor surprisingly well for someone my size.

After a few dances, I step away from Ryker.

"Come on, baby, stay here and dance some more. Or we could go find someplace more private…" he says with a wink.

"I'll think about it," I say vaguely. I have never had a one night stand, and I don't think I want to start now. I know I'm not looking for a relationship right now. There's only one person I would consider that with, and it's not Ryker. "I'm going to get another drink," I say, excusing myself. Ryker shrugs and quickly finds some other girl to dance with; I don't pay much attention.

As I near the kitchen, Uriah is on his way out. His eyes widen when he sees where I'm headed, and he stops me in the doorway. "Uh… come on, Tris, take it easy for a while. Dance with me," he says, grabbing my hand to pull me with him back to the dance floor. I dig my heels in, and he gives me a pleading look which I don't understand.

"I just  _left_  the dance floor, Uri," I say. "And really, I'm only buzzed. I'm going to get another."

As I again move toward the kitchen, Uriah continues to try and stop me. He offers to get my drink for me if I'll go sit down, but that only makes me wonder why he's trying to keep me out. I know that if Uriah doesn't want me going in there, he's only looking out for me, but curiosity wins out.

Uri is still on my heels trying to talk me into turning around and going back to the other room, to the back yard- anything but the kitchen- as I ignore him. But then I see them, and I stop in my tracks, Uri bumping into me and nearly knocking me over. He grabs both my shoulders to steady me, and I stay on my feet.

Right next to the bowl of jungle juice, Four has some girl pressed up against the counter. Her arms are wrapped around his neck, and they are kissing sloppily, their tongues clearly in one another's mouths. One of Four's hands is tangled in her long, dark hair, and the other roams her back and side, grazing the side of her large breast. She is everything I'm not. She's everything Christina was, and which I will never be.  _So, this is his type,_  I think.  _I never stood a chance with him anyway. I was only ever a friend to him._

"Tris," Uriah says quietly, and Four doesn't notice, or doesn't react, at least. But his voice snaps me out of my trance, and I carefully and silently make my way to the bowl of punch, fill my red plastic cup, and quietly walk away from Four and the slut and the punch, straight out of the kitchen and into the back yard, and Uriah follows me. I brush the snow off a plastic pool chair and sit down on it.. Absently, I wonder why they have pool chairs when there is no pool here.

"Tris, are you okay?" Uriah asks.

I make eye contact with him and nod. "I'll be fine. I don't want to talk about it. You should go in and enjoy the party." Uriah looks conflicted, but nods and goes inside.

I sit out in the cold, soon shivering since I forgot my jacket. I don't bother to go get it though. Ryker walks up to me, dropping his cigarette butt in an empty beer can.

"Tris," Ryker says, holding out his hand. "You're not even wearing a jacket. Come on, let's get you inside and warm you up." I look at him for a moment. He's good looking and he seems nice enough. I just want to forget everything for a while. Ryker seems fun. This guilty feeling nags at me, like I am doing something wrong, and I know it has to do with Four, which is just stupid. The man won't even speak to me, and he's making out with some hot Christina replacement at this minute, unless they've already made things more private and headed to an empty bedroom. We shared  _one kiss._  One kiss that should never have even happened.

I just nod and take his hand as I think,  _Why not?_


	23. Show Me Your Soul

**_Four_ **   
_Early December_

> _In a world that can be so insane_   
>  _I don't think it's very strange_

After Zeke’s little lecture about the music I’ve been listening to yesterday, I thought that if I was going to lay on his couch with headphones in, it was time to at least appease him by listening to the music I have been avoiding.  And I quickly see that yes, there is a reason I have been avoiding my favorite band.  It makes me think about Tris.  And even worse, after that party last night, I have fresh material to ruminate on.  Usually a hangover like this helps provide a little distraction, but not today.  My pounding headache makes me more miserable, but no less focused on the girl I am trying desperately not to think about.

> _For me to be in love with you_   
>  _I wanna know more than your brain_

Usually I try to get my mind on something else right away.  But it seems that the subjects of Red Hot Chili Peppers and Tris Prior are now hopelessly entwined in my mind.  I remember seeing Tris dancing _so close_ to that asshole with the piercings.  What I saw later was worse.

> _Into my life you were injected_   
>  _Not something that I expected_

I feel like meeting Tris turned my whole life upside down.  There’s no denying it.  I was jealous.  And Zeke and Uriah, idiots though they are most of the time… well, they weren’t wrong about any of it.  I am, as Zeke said, hopelessly in love with her.  But when I found out that she had seen her boyfriend screwing my girlfriend… and she didn’t say a word about it… I felt like I was nothing to her.  Not even worth a thought.  To care _so much_ for her and none of that to be returned… it really hurts.

> _Now I smile from your affection_   
>  _We have made a soul connection_

Could there be a reason, other than simply not caring much about me, that Tris didn’t tell me?  The truth is, I haven’t wanted to find out.  I don’t want confirmation that she doesn’t love me, and I worry that there could be a multitude of other reasons that would hurt me, too.  “A soul connection”... that’s what I feel with Tris.  What if that’s one-sided?

So I have stayed away from her, made sure to stay angry at her, because she has so much power to hurt me.

> _Just for whom does your bell toll_   
>  _Don't be cold show me your soul_

But she’s not the one who has been cold, is she?  I am.  All because I’m too cowardly to face the truth, whatever it may be.  Seeing her kissing Ryker last night left me with a freshly broken heart, though it hadn’t yet healed from the last blow.  I cringe at the thought that she might have gone back to one of the bedrooms with him after I walked out.  I hope she wouldn’t, but really, my ignoring her is only going to guarantee that at some point, she does move on with someone who isn’t me.

_Move on._  She was never mine to begin with.

I tried to “move on” last night, with that girl by the punchbowl, the one who looked nothing like Tris.  I can’t even remember her name; if anything, it just made me pine over Tris even more.  Nora?  Nina?  Yeah, that’s it, I think it was Nina.  Not like it matters.  Making out with her didn’t help.  I’m glad that Uriah tripped and spilled his drink all over her before we ever made it up to a bedroom.  I’m positive I would have regretted _that_ this morning.  I suspect that his little spill may not have been entirely accidental.

I pull my headphones out before the song even gets to the chorus.  Whether I go talk to her, or stick around here, I can’t listen to this music right now.  I have to work in an hour and a half, so I don’t have time to go see her right now, anyway.   That’s good, because I don’t want to make a decision like that impulsively and find that I’m not really ready to hear what she has to say.

I reread the text I got from Tris yesterday.   _Four, I really want to talk about this.  I miss you. But if you really don’t want to see me or hear from me anymore, I will respect that.  The ball is in your court._

I read the text message several times, barely noticing when Uriah sits down next to me.

“Another text from Tris?”  I look up at him, a little startled, and just nod, swallowing hard.  He lets out a deep sigh.  “She cares about you, you know?  A lot.  Seriously, when are you gonna give up this stupid grudge and talk to her?   _She_ didn’t cheat on you.  And honestly, do you think that this radio silence is convincing her that you would have been easy to talk to?  Not to mention that she was hurt by what she saw, too—by someone who she actually _loved_ and _counted on_ , even if he was no good for her.  She hasn’t told me much about her side of things, so I don’t really know what her reasons were.  I think she feels too badly to try and defend herself.”

Suddenly I’m remembering standing outside the door to my apartment, getting ready to walk in with her after the man she always counted on let her down again.  And I remember telling her, _“I’ll always be there for you, Tris.”_

But then, moments later, things got real.  And I walked away.  Left her sitting there, sick with a fever, without even a safe place to sleep, and I didn’t think twice about it.  I was upset, and angry, and even as I accused her of being selfish, I acted just as selfishly.

And now I feel like I am the one who fucked up.

 

* * *

 

After my Saturday classes at the dojo, I stand next to my truck for a long time, watching Tris wipe down tables and sweep, and help the stray customer here and there.  I don’t realize how long I’ve been standing there watching her like a creep until I see her turn over the OPEN sign and lock the door.  This spurs me to action, and I quickly glance both ways to check for cars before jogging across the street.  When I get there, Tris is pulling the till out of the register to take it back and count it.  Her golden hair is pulled up in a messy knot on top of her head, and the strands that have fallen out over the course of her shift frame her face.  The corners of her lips pull down in a frown, and I realize that they have looked like that for weeks, every time I’ve had a glimpse of her.

But then she looks up, and our eyes meet.

She stands there frozen with the till in her hands, her eyes wide and lips parted seemingly in surprise; I stand there incapable of movement, my arms hanging limply at my sides, watching her through the glass door.  Neither of us move for a long time.  

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.  I’m ready.  I’m ready to listen.

I lift my arm and knock softly on the glass, and Tris blinks a few times, as if she thinks she’s imagining things and I’m not really there.  Then she drops the till back into the register before coming out from behind the counter, unlocking the door, and slowly pulling it open, stepping aside to let me in.  She closes and locks it behind me.

Tris’s eyes shine with unshed tears, and she bites her lip nervously.  Without thinking, I reach out and run my finger along her bottom lip so that she will release it from between her teeth, and she sucks in a sharp inhale of breath as she complies.

I stare at her for a moment longer with my hand lingering lightly pressed to her jaw, and she stares back.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Hi,” she breathes.

I take a deep breath.  “I’m ready to talk.”

 

* * *

**_Tris_ **

When I saw Four standing on the other side of the cafe’s glass door, I really thought I was imagining things.  I stood there and stared at him, like an idiot.  It wasn’t until he knocked on the glass that I broke out of my little trance.  

When he touched my lip to encourage me to release it from between my teeth, every nerve in my body hummed with energy, and that just pushed me even closer to tears than I was before.  Even if, after he listens to my apology, after we talk, we bury the hatchet and become friends again… it’s obvious to me that I am in love with him.  And it is also painfully obvious, after that party last night… that those feelings are one sided.  I’m not his type.  He deserves someone better, anyway.  Someone pretty, and sexy, and confident… like that girl he was with at the party last night.

I didn’t even count out the till when I locked up; I’ll do it later, after Four and I talk, because this is important.  I’m sure Tori will understand.  I simply locked up and led him to Tori’s apartment, which is where we are now.  Tori is out with her boyfriend tonight and said not to expect her home until tomorrow, so we have privacy here.  I can feel him watching me from where he sits at the kitchen table as I fill the electric tea kettle and start it heating.

As I pull mugs and a box of chamomile tea out of the cupboard, Four clears his throat.  “So, this is where you’ve been staying.”  I turn to face him, leaning against the counter, and his deep blue eyes meet mine.  “I guess it must be convenient with how much you’re working.”  

So he’s noticed, has he?  I wonder whether it’s because he missed me as much as I missed him… or because he wanted to avoid seeing me so badly.  I raise an eyebrow.  

“I’ve noticed you working every time I’ve been at the dojo,” Tobias explains.  “And Uriah and Marlene say you practically live at the cafe.  I didn’t realize just how true that statement was.”  

I smile a little at his joke.  The electric kettle finishes its crescendo from a dull hiss to an insistent roar, and I hear the switch click to the off position, indicating that the water is hot.  I pour the water into the mugs and bring them to the table with me, sliding his across to him as I sit down.

“Yeah, I’m working extra hours as compensation.  For rent, I mean,” I explain.  “Tori said I could stay here for free but I just didn’t feel right about that.  I want to really be independent, and I never was when I was with Eric.  I need to rely on myself, because I know better than to count on anyone else by now.  Looking back, I don’t like who I was with him.  I don’t want to be that person anymore.”  

Four looks down; he almost looks guilty, but I am too worried about the conversation we are about to have and whether or not he will forgive me to think much about why.  We awkwardly sip our tea for a moment, and I know that I need to be the one to speak first.  I am the one who was begging to talk about this.  I wipe my sweaty palms—evidence of my anxiety over this conversation—on my pants legs, and I look directly into his deep blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you,” I blurt.  “You were right about everything you said.  I was selfish and weak.  I was a coward.  You deserved to know the truth.  I wish I could go back and make a different choice, but I know I can’t.”  All this time trying to get him to just listen to me… and now that we are here, I don’t know what to say.  I had my reasons, even if they weren’t good ones, for keeping my discovery a secret… but now, sitting here with him, I am afraid that he will think I am only making excuses.

Four just stares at me emotionlessly, like he’s still waiting.  “That’s it?  I mean, you must have had _some_ reason for not telling me about Christina and Eric.”

I bite my lip and nod.  “I did… but like I told you, you deserved better, and I was wrong.  There’s nothing I can say to justify my choice.  I’m not trying to get out of anything with excuses.  Bottom line… I was wrong, and I’m so sorry.”  

“Yeah, and that’s why I want to hear your reasons, Tris,” Four says with a sigh.  I’m frustrating him.  Damn it.  “I still want to know what you were thinking.  It matters to me.”  He looks at me expectantly.

“Okay…” I mumble as I stir my tea.  It doesn’t need to be stirred, I just need to do _something_ with my hands right now.  “Well, first of all… I wanted to believe Eric when he said it was a one-time mistake, so I did.  I was also afraid of losing _you_.  I mean, the old adage ‘don’t shoot the messenger’ exists for a reason.  What if you thought I was lying?  Especially given the timing.”

“The timing?” he asks, confused.

“It was a week after we kissed.  I guess… I wasn’t totally sure where we stood.  Then by the time my head was on straight again, we weren’t on speaking terms… then when we were, again, I felt like it was too late to tell you.  But more than anything, I was afraid of being alone.”  I take a deep breath.  “When it comes down to it… if I told you… if I told anyone, but _especially_ you… then it was real.  The one thing that I could count on in my life these past two years, was falling apart.  And I wasn’t brave enough or strong enough to face that.”

Four is silent for so long that I’m startled when he speaks again.  “Why _especially_ me?”

Isn’t it obvious?  It should be.  Even so, it’s hard to get the words out, and heat rushes to my cheeks.  “Because you’re the most important to me.  And you have this way of… seeing right through me.  Sometimes it’s a little unnerving, actually.”

He laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound.  “I know the feeling.”  He sips his tea, looking deep in thought, and the silence is killing me.  I just put it all out there, and he hasn’t really responded at all.

“Don’t you want to yell at me or something?” I ask, desperate for him to say something—anything.

Four shakes his head.  “I’ve yelled at you enough, and I’ve ignored you enough.  Too much.  You can stand up for yourself against me, too, you know.”

“Well, I was at least persistent in asking you to talk to me,” I point out.

Another beautiful laugh.  “Yes, you were.  Borderline harassment, really.”  He’s not mad, though, so I just smile.  “You’re forgiven.”  I can see it in his eyes.  He isn’t just talking about harassing him with texts and emails.  He means for everything.  My body sags in relief, and Four stands, holding out his hand to me.  I raise an eyebrow but place my hand in his, and he leads me to the couch.

“Tris, I need to apologize, too.”  He is still holding my hand, and tingles creep up my arm and butterflies fill my stomach.  He traces circles and figure eights on my palm.  “I was so upset that you kept that secret from me that I wasn’t thinking clearly.  I was so irrational, I blamed you for everything.  Things that were never your fault.  But I want you in my life, Tris.  I’ve really missed you.”  He chews on his lip anxiously, like there’s something else he wants to say but isn’t sure he should.  

For three weeks, the only thing I’ve focused on, when it comes to Four, is everything I have done wrong.  But now that I have had the chance to explain, and he is telling me that he still cares for me, it hits me how abruptly he turned away from me in such a vulnerable moment.  How he broke his promise to always be there for me.  How he ignored me for weeks instead of speaking to me.

I miss him more than words can express, I care for him _so deeply_ … but can I trust him?

“What made you decide to talk to me, Four?” I ask carefully.  I need to know.

“Tobias,” he corrects me.

“Tobias,” I repeat.

For a minute, he is quiet and his eyes are unfocused, like he’s looking at me but not seeing me, gazing off into space.  He clears his throat.  “Well, Zeke and Uriah talked some sense into me for one thing,” he begins.  “But the inciting incident that prompted _that_ is also the other reason.  The party last night.”

I have no idea what the party has to do with anything, how that could have made him decide to talk to me, and I tell him so.

I am surprised to see that his cheeks are turning a bright pink against his olive skin.  “I was jealous,” he admits.  

“Of who?”  I am so confused.  I know he isn’t interested in me like _that,_ so what was there to be jealous of?

“Seriously?  Ryker.  That punk you were dancing with.  And making out, and who knows what else, with.”

I snatch my hand out of his at his words and jump to my feet.  Why the hell does he even care what I am doing with some guy at a party?  How is that any of his business?!  “ _And who knows what else?_ ” I hiss, my hands clenched in fists.  “Tobias, _why_ do you care?  I don’t understand what this has to do with you!  And thanks, by the way, for assuming that I put out for random guys at parties.  I didn’t fuck him, not that it’s any of your business.”

His relief is impossible to miss: his whole body visibly relaxes and he lets out an involuntary sigh.  Maybe he has some sort of rivalry with Ryker or something, I have no idea.

“It’s not my business!” he shouts, now standing as well, making me jump.  “And I hate it!”

“What?” my voice is barely a whisper.  My heart pounds and I can’t seem to help holding my breath.

Tobias runs his hands through his hair with a groan.  “Do I have to spell it out for you?  I… I want…”  He steps toward me, and in an instant, his arm is around my waist, his hand pressing against the small of my back, pulling me toward him; his other hand cradles the base of my skull.  I gasp and my hands fly to his chest as his lips crash against mine.  I lose myself in this kiss; it is full of passion and longing and lust.  I am turning to liquid, yet a fire shoots through my veins, and every thought is pushed from my mind—it is only me and Tobias and this moment, and the world around us has fallen away.

And then an image of Tobias and that girl in front of the punchbowl at the party flashes in my mind, and I take advantage of my hands against his chest to push away from him, stumbling several steps back as soon as he releases me from his grasp.

“What the fuck was that?!” I screech.  “Why—what—I am _not_ one of your conquests, _Four_!”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, reminding me a little of a goldfish.

“I just—I don’t understand, Tobias.  I’m not tan and sexy and… ugh!  I’m not like Christina or that… _girl_ you were with last night.”  I look away and bite my cheek in an attempt to get ahold of my emotions and look up to see Tobias shaking his head.  

“For someone so smart, you’re an idiot, Tris,” Tobias mutters.  Did he seriously just call me an idiot?!  I want to walk out of here, slamming the door for good measure… but this is _my_ home, not his.  “I made out with that girl last night because I was drunk, and I was _very jealous_ of the asshole you were dancing with, and because she looked _nothing_ like the girl I actually _wanted_ to be with.   _You_.”

This… is not what I expected.  When I brought Tobias up here to the apartment, of all the possible outcomes of this conversation… this is one that I never considered.  He likes me back… Tobias Eaton likes me back.  

“What… what do you mean when you say you want to _be with me?_ ”  I ask, cringing at how small my voice sounds.

“I… I mean that I’m crazy about you, Tris.  I mean that I dream about that kiss at the cemetery.  I mean that I want you to be mine.”

I should be giddy with happiness right now, but I feel like there is a rock in my stomach.

“Tris?” Tobias says desperately, running his fingers through his hair once again.  His hair is a mess.

“Just… just give me a minute.”  I drop onto the couch and lean my head into my hands, my elbows propped on my knees.  He sits stiffly next to me, chewing on his lip.  

“Tris... what are you thinking?  Fuck.  I shouldn’t have… damn it!” he sputters and I reach out and grab his hand in an attempt to calm him.  I’m not upset that he kissed me, or with his admission, I just need to figure out what I feel about all this.  That in itself is confusing enough, because I know I’ve been falling for Tobias for months.

My mind wanders back to a question I have not yet answered.   _Can I trust Tobias?_  I don’t know.  

“Tobias… I’m crazy about you, too.  I dream about that kiss at the cemetery, too.  And… I want to be yours.  But I can’t.  Because I can’t trust you.”  Tobias’s eyes move through a range of emotions, starting out bright and happy and ending up confused and heartbroken.  “I just got out of an… _unhealthy_ relationship.  And… I can’t get into another one.  I need to know that neither of us is going to run away and ignore the other for weeks every time we don’t like something.  I want nothing more than to be with you, Tobias.  But… can we just be friends again first?”

Tobias slowly nods.  “Can we… can we agree to no more making out with randoms at parties while I wait for you?”

He pulls me into a hug and rests his lips against my head.   _This moment is perfect._  “Don’t worry, Tobias,” I murmur.  “I don’t want anyone else.”

“Neither do I,” he sighs.  “Only you.  You’re worth waiting for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song referenced is Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Show Me Your Soul"... hence the title of the chapter.  Also in case anyone wondered, about halfway through writing this story I finally came up with the idea to use song titles as chapter titles.


	24. Midnight

_**Tris** _   
_End of December_

I sigh, glancing at the clock for the tenth time in the past hour, as I bus tables following the last rush of customers. Lauren will be here in twenty minutes to work the closing shift. Tobias said he would meet me here after he finishes work across the street—we're off at the same time today. I smile thinking of him.

Tobias has stayed here in Chicago almost the whole winter break. He didn't want to go home and see Marcus, for obvious reasons, so he had preemptively pitched an idea to Amar: day camps. It has worked out perfectly, both for Tobias, who now had a valid work-related excuse to stay here in Chicago during his school holiday, and for Amar, who is boosting his profits by providing a safe, educational place for parents to leave their kids during the school holiday. Tobias went home only long enough to attend a Christmas Day dinner at Marcus's coworkers; I spent that day with Tori and her family. Tobias and I watched movies together on Christmas Eve, not even really acknowledging the holiday. It was easier for me to just pretend it wasn't Christmas, that I wasn't spending another holiday without my family.

Finals ended two weeks ago, and, thankfully, I finished my classes with a grade point average high enough to easily maintain my scholarships. As soon as the term was complete, I was  _finally_  assigned a new dorm room. Tobias was assigned a new apartment-dorm at the same time, so he first helped me move out of Tori's place, then I helped him to move out of the apartment he had shared with Eric that evening, when we knew Eric would be at work and we wouldn't have any awkward encounters. Neither of us have met our roommates yet—they must have gone home for winter break.

Ten minutes left, and the café is slow now. I spend my last few minutes of work restocking the fridge under the counter with more milk, checking our supplies of syrups, making fresh house coffee, and so on. When Lauren walks in five minutes before her shift, I quickly prepare the till, stowing the extra cash that has accumulated in the time-delay safe that I punched the code into a few minutes earlier. Just as Lauren comes back to the counter wearing her apron and telling me I'm free to punch out for the day, the door chimes.

Tobias smiles at me as he approaches the counter. "Good timing," I tell him. "I'm about to clock out. I'll just be a second."

"Hurry up, will ya?" Tobias teases. I just roll my eyes.

Five minutes later, I have punched out to end my shift, tossed my apron in the laundry bin, and changed into the fresh clothes I brought along in my backpack. "Ready?" I ask Tobias.

"Absolutely," he agrees, and guides me out to his truck with his hand at the small of my back, and my pulse quickens. Though we are only friends, more intimate gestures like this have become commonplace between us. Tobias never presses for more than that, and I don't want to be with anyone else anyway, so I don't mind.

Over the past few weeks, Tobias and I have grown closer than ever. With everyone else home for the holidays, we've hung out more evenings than not, and we've been going to the dormitory building's gym together most mornings. We both miss our runs, and spending time outdoors.

"So, what do you wanna do?" I ask as Tobias starts his truck.

He smirks. It makes me a little nervous when he smirks… "Wait and see."

"Come on, please?"

Tobias laughs. "It's cute that you think I'll answer you." I groan, but quickly give in and return to our usual banter. We move quickly through topics, as always, discussing music, the upcoming turn, and finally landing on a debate about which of the Super Mario Bros. would win in a fight.

"Luigi?!" Tobias exclaims, outraged. "No way. Mario may be shorter, but he's braver and bulkier. I bet he's got 50 pounds of muscle on Luigi."

"I disagree," I begin, pleading my case. "You're underestimating his will to win. Mario has it  _all_. He's got the princess, the castle, they, as a pair, are even  _named_  after him. Super Mario Bros.?" I shake my head dramatically. "Luigi doesn't get the attention he's due. So, even aside from the fact that Luigi is taller, leaner and faster than Mario, just imagine the depth of his resentment. He won't give up, he's determined to beat the piss out of that fat little asshole."

Tobias pauses, thinking, as he pulls into a parking lot. "You make a good argument, Prior," he says seriously. "I think you may have changed my opinion on this very important topic."

I laugh as I survey the scene in front of me. We're at an outdoor ice rink. "Tobias…" I bite my lip. "I don't know how to skate."

Tobias just smiles. "That's okay, because I do, and I'll teach you." I know that Tobias knows how to skate quite well. He told me once that he used to play ice hockey.

I shrug and flash him a smile, then hop out of the truck. We sit on a bench and lace up our skates. Tobias must be confident that I'll enjoy this—he bought me my own pair of skates at a secondhand store. He must have had this idea brewing for a while, to have paid attention to my shoe size.

The ice rink is not crowded, so Tobias and I can go as slow as I need without really getting in anyone's way. We stay near the edge, and he faces me, skating backwards and pulling me along by both hands. He is a patient teacher—I bet he's great with those kids he teaches at the dojo.

We skate this way, with him facing me and holding my hands, a little longer than is really necessary. When he lets go so I can try on my own, I miss his gloved hands in mine. But then he does a quick turn and is by my side, grabbing my right hand. "Just in case," he says with a wink, and I laugh.

Tobias clears his throat. "So, I know that most people are out of town for the holiday, but I ran into a guy from one of my classes last semester, and he told me about a New Year's Eve party on… well, on New Year's Eve, obviously. You wanna go? I mean—if you don't have plans…"

"Uh, I had just kind of assumed I would be doing whatever you were doing so… yes, sounds great," I agree with a smile. I want to ask whether he means as friends, or as a date… but I decide that might just be awkward to bring up. We both know we aren't  _just_  friends, but we aren't a "thing" either. I think I trust him, and I have been finding myself wanting more, but I'm afraid of ruining what we have now. It's complicated. And uncomfortable to talk about. Just… awkward, and I hate for things between Tobias and me to be awkward. So we ignore it.

After a few more laps around the rink, Tobias drops my hand. "Okay, I think you've got it," he says. "Try skating on your own, at your own pace, for a while." I laugh. Tobias is trying to be patient and kind, but he's itching to do some real skating.

"Yes, I'll be fine. Please, demonstrate your legendary ice skills for me now."

"Can't say no to that," he calls as he skates away.

Tobias really is very good. I watch him off and on while as I practice. His movements are so graceful and fluid, and even with his heavy jacket on, that body… god, he's gorgeous. I make myself stop watching him so I can focus on learning to ice skate and soon, I'm actually getting a lot better at this. I start skating a little faster, then faster still… and soon, I am about to barrel into someone, and only then do I realize that I don't really know how to stop. "Four!" I yell, trying to warn him to move out of the way.

But he doesn't move out of the way, he just turns so he's facing me, and I see his eyes widen just before I slam into him. He tries to keep us both upright but even the Mighty Four can't keep his balance with how hard I slid into him, and we both topple to the ground. I desperately fumble for something to hold onto, squeezing my eyes shut on instinct.

When I open my eyes, I find myself in Tobias's lap with my legs hanging off one side, my arms wrapped around his neck. Our faces are so close that the white clouds caused by our breaths in the cold air become one.

Time stands still as I stare into his ocean blue eyes. There are only inches between us. My heart pounds and my eyes flick to his lips; when I look back up, I see that he's staring at mine. Then he's leaning in, or I am, I can't even tell—all I know is that there are now only centimeters separating us. I clear my throat and look away, sliding myself out of his lap. I wanted him to kiss me… I did. But I chickened out. I don't know whether to be relieved, or scold myself.

"Sorry about that. I guess I should have paid more attention to that lesson you gave me on how to stop," I laugh nervously.

Tobias gets to his feet, then reaches out and pulls me up. "I really didn't mind," he grins. "Come on, I'll show you again."

* * *

The New Year's Eve party isn't too crowded yet when we arrive at ten o'clock. We each had a couple of drinks before leaving Tobias's apartment, so we walked here—it was only a few blocks.

"Remember our deal, okay?" Tobias shouts over the music. I can't seem to stop myself from checking him out whenever he's not looking; his dark wash jeans show off his butt perfectly, and his long-sleeved black t-shirt is snug-tight enough to show off his toned body, but not so tight that it looks like he's trying too hard.

I raise an eyebrow, and my stomach drops when I see that girl—the one Tobias made out with at that party a few weeks ago—across the room grinding against some guy with a build and hair style similar to Tobias's. Apparently make-out girl has a type.

"I remember. Just make sure you do, too." I'm not sure I could survive a repeat of his little show with make-out girl by that punch bowl. I'd probably dump the whole thing on her head.

I scan the crowd for anyone I might know while Tobias gets us some drinks. I see a couple of girls I went to high school with—probably home on winter break—but I doubt I'd find anything to talk with them about, so I just wait for Tobias.

I smile when I see him coming toward me with two red plastic cups, and he flashes me a very charming grin in return. When he's about to hand me my drink, a hand shoots past me and takes the drink from his hand. "Wow, what a gentleman you are, Four!" a smooth female voice says from behind me.

I turn to see make-out girl already sipping my drink.  _Of course._

Tobias looks shocked, but recovers pretty quickly. "That was actually for Tris. Tris, this is Nina… Nina, Tris."

Make-out girl laughs and touches his chest. My hands tighten into fists, even though he takes a step closer to me. "You know my name is  _Nita,_  silly!"

This girl's presence is literally making me feel sick.

"Uh, actually, no… I didn't. Tris, will you be okay for another moment while I get myself another drink? Here, you can have mine. I'll be right back."

He disappears into the crowd and Nita turns to me, her frozen smile turning into an icy glare.

"Listen here, Trixie—" she spits

"It's  _Tris,_ " I interrupt.

Nita rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Look, Four and I kind of have a little thing going, and he's  _way_  out of your league. Some of those boys over there might not mind, well, that you still look like a little girl... but  _Four_  can do better. So  _back off._ "

Things like this happened a few times when I was with Eric at parties. I remember how I'd just shrink back, then cling to Eric the rest of the night. Looking back at it gives me a sick feeling in my stomach. I was so weak and timid.  _I don't want to be that person any more._

"Actually, Nita, Four and I came here  _together._  We will enjoy this party  _together._ And we will leave  _together._  If you really believed he was 'out of my league', there would be no need for you to be so jealous and to try and bully me away from him. But you know that  _you_  are not what he wants—he didn't even remember your name, for God's sake! So, nice try, but you won't scare me off. Now run along and find a guy whose standards are low enough for you to pique his interest."

Nita stares at me with her jaw dropped, face turning bright red, and eyebrows forming a V, and Tobias returns with his drink. "Let's dance, Tris!" he says in my ear, and grabs my free hand. "Happy New Year, Nina," he calls out as he leads me into the crowd. I can't hold back my laugh when I see Nita stomp her foot like a toddler.

"You called her the wrong name on purpose," I laugh.

Tobias grins. "I've never claimed to be nice," he says with a shrug. "You weren't very nice either, you know. We're perfect for each other. We can be not-very-nice together!"

I laugh. "I didn't know you heard that."

He pulls me tightly against him, with my back to his chest. He and I each still hold our drinks in our left hands, but his right goes to my waist, holding me as if he thinks I'll try to run away. I put my hand on top of his as I shudder at the contact.

He leans down, ghosting his lips along my neck, and his hot breath tickles my ear when he speaks; his voice is so seductive, I almost moan out loud. "She's wrong, you know. You're the most beautiful girl in the room—in any room." I throw back the rest of my drink in a few gulps and stack his cup inside of mine.

I'm not entirely comfortable with the compliment, but I accept it, or at least I don't argue. Something about the way Tobias says these wonderful things to me, almost makes me believe that what he says is true.

What I feel against my back as he grinds against me, tells me that he believes it.

I bite my lip. Is this too much like a date? Or maybe this  _is_  a date? Should we stop dancing? I don't want to stop… I don't want to ever stop this… but things are already so complicated, I am afraid to move too far out of the friend zone. Maybe we should stop...

Tobias's hand runs up and down my side, and mine goes behind me around his neck. My thoughts are becoming fuzzy. Fuck the friendzone. He likes me, I like him, I don't want to dance with anyone else, don't want to be with anyone else. I just want to have fun tonight.

But then  _Nita_  happens. She's just walking by when somehow, she just  _happens_  to trip over her own feet when she is steps away from us, and her drink just  _happens_  to spill all over me. I am now soaked, my dress is stained red, and I reek of alcohol.

"Oh my god, I am  _so sorry_!" Nita shrieks with false concern. Four scowls at her, but she seems oblivious to his mood—and to the fact that she is not wanted. "You go ahead and get cleaned up, I'll keep Four entertained while we wait for you."

She has gone too far now. I just want to bitch slap her for trying to move in on  _my man._  A voice in the back of my mind says,  _But he's not_ your man _, Tris. He's not yours because you're too_ afraid  _of getting hurt._ I shove the thought aside. I'm here with Tobias, she has no right to move in on him when we are here together.

I'm about to give her a piece of my mind when Four cuts in. "Nina—Nita—whoever you are! Get this clear.  _I am not interested._  Now leave me and my… uh,  _Tris_  alone!" I suppress a smile when he stumbles over his words, trying to figure out how to refer to me. He turns to me now. "You wanna get out of here?"

* * *

_**Tobias** _

It's about a half hour before midnight when we arrive back to my apartment. We each did a couple of tequila shots on our way out of the party, so both of us are buzzed and a little unsteady. I first get Tris one of my t-shirts, since her dress was sticky and wet, and we didn't take the time to stop at her dorm on our way up. Then I turn on the annual New Year's Eve special, though we'll ignore the television until the ball starts to drop, while Tris goes to the kitchen to find us some drinks.

When I turn around to say something to Tris, I smirk at the sight of her. She stands on the kitchen counter in my t-shirt—which is more like a dress, reaching her mid-thigh, as it's way too big for her—and bare feet, digging through the top cupboards. My eyes rake up and down her body and I almost groan at the sight of her in my shirt. I can only hope that eventually, I get to wake up to see her dressed that way, and often. The sooner the better, but I'll wait if that's what she needs.

"You know, I'd get down whatever you needed if you just ask, Shortcake."

Tris shrugs. "I know." She pulls a bottle of rum out of the back of the cupboard and sets it on the cupboard before hopping straight down from the counter to the floor with a thud. "But I'm an independent woman, you know."

I laugh and nod. Tris is no longer the shrinking violet she was with Eric. She's been taking charge of her own life since their break-up and it shows. She's just so full of life—like she was that day I first met her… multiplied by a factor of ten.

Besides the drinks Tris mixed for us, we decide more shots are in order—it is New Year's Eve, after all. Soon Tris is a swaying, giggling mess, and my thoughts are moving so slowly, I feel a slight spinning sensation that only gets worse when I close my eyes.

At 11:57, we move our little party to the couch. I have been looking forward to this for days—especially after our moment at the ice rink, when I  _almost_  kissed her.  _Almost._ But I've been too chicken to ask if she's okay with what I want to do, and I now have… two minutes to ask.  _Be brave, Tobias,_  I tell myself.

"Tris," I say. I hope she doesn't hear my voice shaking. She looks at me from her spot on the couch. She's sitting with her legs bent at the knees and feet tucked in, and her knee is barely three inches from my leg.

"Hmm?" she responds, raising her eyebrows.

"Can I… when the ball drops, at the New Year…" I rub the back of my neck, trying to calm myself. "Can I have a New Year's kiss? I mean, it's tradition and all…"

Tris just looks at me, her soft, pink lower lip between her teeth.  _I want to bite that lip._  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the time counting down on the screen. Only fifty-three seconds to go, and Tris, it seems, is still thinking. Does she not  _want_  to kiss me? I could swear I just saw her look at my lips, but I could be imagining it, because she hasn't answered me yet. I know we're just friends right now but… I also thought she liked me too. It sure seemed like it at the party.

"Yes. You can kiss me. Because it's a tradition." Thirty-two seconds. "And because you are really fucking sexy," she adds with a giggle.

I'm sure my grin puts the Cheshire Cat's to shame.

I scoot over next to her as the ball drops and the crowd in Times Square counts down from ten.

_Ten. Nine. Eight._

God, she's gorgeous. She licks her lips and I wonder how I'll wait until the countdown is over.

_Seven. Six. Five._

My heart pounds and my breathing quickens.

_Four. Three. Two._

My mouth has gone dry.

_One._

As the crowd shouts "Happy New Year!" I crash my lips against hers, my hands tangle in her hair. She kisses back, our lips molding together perfectly, and her hands reach around to my back, pulling me closer. I deepen the kiss and run my hands down her back to her waist, pulling her into my lap; at the same time she shifts, or something, I don't know how exactly it happens—I am more focused on her lips—and then she's straddling me on the couch, and these jeans are beginning to feel way too tight.

I finally get to bite that lower lip she's been taunting me with, and she lets out a moan. Our tongues explore each other's mouths, and she tugs on the roots of my hair. We break apart, short of breath, and I just want to taste every inch of her skin. I kiss her jawline, and she throws her head back as I move down her neck. My hands roam up and down her sides, then cup her breast through her shirt and she hums, encouraging me on.

As I kiss and suck at her pulse point, Tris rocks her hips against my erection—I don't even think she's doing it on purpose—and she begins to push my shirt up. I moan as Tris gasps out, "Tobias!" Hearing Tris say my given name in that sexy, need-filled voice, I just about lose it. But while hearing my name from her lips makes me soar even higher, it brings me crashing to reality at the same time.

Just friends. Tris is not ready for more. I want to keep going— _oh god, I want to_ —but not as much as I want a relationship with Tris. I can't screw this up.

I pull away. She tries to reach out and pull me back in, but I grab her wrists. I take a deep breath and let it out. Every cell in my body is screaming to just keep going, to do what we both want in this moment and think about the consequences later. "Tris… we need to stop," I say breathlessly. "This was just supposed to be a kiss. One New Year's kiss. I want it all with you, Tris… when you're ready to have me. I don't want one night, then back in the friendzone."

Tris leans her forehead against mine and nods as we both breathe heavily. Our eyes meet again and Tris whispers, "Fuck the friendzone."

My heart skips a beat and my breath hitches in my throat, but I don't have time to think before she presses her lips to mine again. I release her wrists and squeeze her hips. Tris holds my face in both hands as she kisses me hungrily, and I immediately respond. I slide my hands up her sides and back down, groaning as my fingers touch the bare skin on her leg; she runs her hands through my hair, over my shoulders and down my chest. When I run my hands back up to her waist, under my t-shirt that she looks so damn sexy in, my fingers skim over the sides of her lace panties.

Tris's fingers pinch the hem of my shirt and she rubs her thumbs across the fabric for a moment before she begins tugging it upward; I let go of her to help her pull it off. I stare into her eyes and she bites her lip as she grabs the bottom of the shirt she is wearing, her arms crossed, and then in one motion she pulls it over her head and tosses it aside. I fight to keep my eyes on hers. I fail, and for just a moment, glance down. Her perfect mounds are partially obscured by her black lace bra, and my Adam's apple bobs as I swallow hard.

When I meet her eyes again, Tris is chewing on her lip like she always does when she's nervous, and her eyes look so uncertain. She's tensing up, and her arms twitch slightly, like she's fighting the urge to cover herself with them. "Beautiful," I whisper. "Tris, you're perfect. So fucking perfect."

We kiss slowly, taking our time, and she wraps her legs around my waist as I stand up and carry her into my bedroom. I lay her gently down and hover over her with one knee on the bed and my other foot planted on the floor. She pulls away and looks me up and down. "Well, this isn't fair." She motions to my jeans. "I'm nearly naked and you're still half-dressed!"

Laughing, I pull my jeans and socks off faster than I thought possible and climb onto the bed next to her. I gently touch the small blue jewel protruding from her belly button. I didn't know she had any piercings other than her ears. "What are you thinking, Tobias," Tris asks softly.

I lean down and kiss her flat, toned stomach just above the piercing, and pepper kisses up the middle of her stomach, between her breasts, and finally one soft kiss to her lips. Her skin is so soft, and breaths are becoming faster and more shallow. I pull back just long enough to say, "I was thinking that your belly button piercing makes you even sexier… which I didn't think was possible." Then I press my lips back to hers and feel her smile into the kiss.

We kiss until we both have to pull away to breathe. I slide my nose along her jawline and begin to kiss down her neck, my hands finding their way behind her and releasing the clasp on her bra. Tris moans as I scrape my teeth on her collarbone. I pull back a little to toss her bra who-knows-where.

We kiss, deeply and passionately and hungrily, as our hands explore each other's bodies. I kiss my way back down to her breasts and place open mouthed kisses, then suck gently, on one of her hardened pink nipples while I caress and knead her other breast with my hand. Tris grips my hair tightly, holding me against her. I switch to the other side, giving each breast equal treatment. Tris's breath is coming out in little gasps and moans and whimpers. God, she turns me on.

"Tobias…" Tris says, and I bring my face level with hers again, propping myself up on my left elbow, and skim her stomach with my right hand then rest it on her hip. "I want you," she whispers.

I swallow hard. "Are you sure, Tris?" I'm painfully hard and want absolutely nothing more than to be inside her right now, but I don't want her to regret this tomorrow.

"Positive," she insists.

I capture her lips with mine and don't deepen the kiss as I begin to rub her through her soaked panties, and I just about lose it when I push them aside and slide my finger along her slit. "Tris," I moan. "You're so wet for me." I tug at her panties and Tris raises her hips a bit off the bed to help me, and I slide them down her legs and toss them aside. My eyes rake over her body again. She's absolutely gorgeous, more perfect than I could have ever imagined.

I climb off the bed and smirk at her gasp when I pull her to the edge of the bed. "I want to taste you, Tris," I growl as I sink to my knees between her legs.

* * *

_**Tris** _

My head falls back and my eyes flutter shut as Tobias's thumb rubs slow circles on my clit. He kisses up the inside of my thigh as he slides a finger inside me and begins pumping in and out; soon he adds a second finger. When he almost has his mouth right where I need it, he switches to the other leg, slowly kissing his way up my opposite thigh toward my center. I shudder and gasp as he replaces his thumb with his tongue flicking my clit. The waves of ecstasy leave me lightheaded as he licks and sucks and nips, and I buck my hips uncontrollably, causing Tobias to hold my body down with his other arm.

I claw at the sheets and whimper and moan and babble incoherently as the tightening in my abdomen builds and builds. I feel myself begin to clench around his fingers. "Shit… Tobias… don't stop, please don't stop," I gasp, I am so close.

"Just let go, baby," he croons as he curls his fingers to hit just the right spot inside me, and that along with the vibration of his voice against my nub sends me tumbling over the edge. He continues his ministrations as shockwaves ripple through me and I scream out his name.

Tobias wipes his face on the back of his hand as he crawls back up me, positioning himself between my legs, kissing me hard, the taste of my arousal still on his lips. He pulls a foil packet out of his nightstand drawer, rips it open and rolls the condom on.

"Tris, are you sure you want to do this?" Tobias asks, studying my face carefully. His whole body trembles. I run my hands over his incredibly sexy chiseled pecs and abs. I have been confused lately about what I want right now with him, but I am not any more. I trust him, and am positive that he cares for me. I want him, he wants me, it's time to stop making this so complicated. We have practically been dating for the past month anyway, if I'm honest.

"Positive," I breathe and I press my lips to his. We kiss slowly as he presses against my opening, both moaning into the kiss as he slides himself a few inches in. He's  _big_ , and it's been a few months, but he pushes into me slowly, giving me time to adjust.

Our lovemaking is passionate and unhurried. Tobias kisses me deeply as we rock our hips together, savoring this moment we have both waited so long for. My fingernails dig into his back as our pace quickens and I hook my legs around his waist. I shatter around him as thrusts into me hard and erratically, then stills inside me.

He rests his forehead against mine for a moment before collapsing next to me on the bed, both of us breathless and sated. Tobias pulls me against him and tugs the blanket over us. "Stay with me," he whispers.

"Always," I murmur.

As we cuddle into each other, his arms wrapped around me, our legs tangled together, and my head laying on his chest, I sigh contentedly.

"Best New Year's ever," he mumbles as he holds me even closer.

"Mmm," I hum. "Best ever.


	25. Happiness Loves Company

**_Tobias_ **   
_New Year’s Day_

I wake with long, blonde hair tickling my face and the weight of Tris’s head on my chest, her body pressed against my side and her legs tangled in mine.  Her face is relaxed and pink lips slightly parted.  Beautiful.  I immediately remember our incredible start to the new year and smile.  Despite the too-bright sunlight streaming through my window and the dull, throbbing headache leftover from drinking a little too much last night, I think this must be the most perfect morning of my life so far.

When I asked Tris to that New Year’s Eve party, I never dared imagine the night would end up as it did.  Even hoping for a kiss when the ball dropped seemed like wishful thinking.  I wanted the party to be a date—honestly, I have wanted each and every time we have spent together this past month to be a date—but I never guessed she could think of it that way yet.  I don’t know what changed for Tris last night, but I can only hope and pray that she hasn’t changed her mind.  If she wakes this morning with regret… I don’t know what I’ll do.

I gently kiss the top of Tris’s head before I slip out of bed, careful not to wake her, and put on some boxers.  After taking some ibuprofen, drinking a glass of water and using the bathroom, I set a few pills and a bottle of water on the nightstand for Tris before climbing back into bed with her.  I never really have been someone who likes to cuddle—with Chris, I would turn over and sleep with my back to her as soon as she fell asleep, and I definitely wouldn’t have come back to bed like this.  But now, all I want is to keep Tris close.  I wrap my arms back around her and pull her close before I close my eyes again.  She stirs a little, but then just snuggles closer to me.  I smile at the happy little sigh she lets out before her breathing falls back into the slow, steady pattern of sleep, and I begin to drift off, too.

* * *

 

When I open my eyes again, I am met with piercing gray-blue staring back at me.  “Morning, handsome,” Tris says.  Her voice is thick with sleep and she smiles with her eyes.  One of my arms serves as her pillow, and she rests one hand on my chest, the other wrapping around my waist.

“Morning, beautiful,” I reply, my free hand sliding up her back and into her tangled hair as I pull her into a kiss.  Fuck, I want her again already, right now, and I know, pressed against each other like this, she can feel exactly what she does to me.  But I pull back and scoot away from her a little.  I need to know how she feels about what happened between us.

“So, last night…” I start.

“—was amazing,” she interrupts.

I couldn’t stop my smile if I tried.  “You don’t regret it then?  Because I mean, we were kind of drunk, and I mean…”

Tris shakes her head.  “I definitely don’t regret it.  Do you?”

I pause, trying to word my answer.  “That depends on what you want, Tris,” I say slowly.  “I don’t want this to have just been a hook-up, I want a relationship.  I want you to be mine.”  I hold my breath.  If she doesn’t want the same thing I do, then as amazing as last night was, it will only hurt that much more when she rejects me.

Tris cups my cheek with her hand as she gives me a shy smile and bites her lip. “I want that too, Tobias.”  Then she leans in and kisses me, then pulls away and smiles.

“So now does that mean I can call you my girlfriend instead of ‘my Tris’?” I ask, smirking.

Tris laughs.  “I think it does.”  She rolls away from me and gets out of bed, and I instantly feel the loss and pout.  “I’m going to take a shower,” she says, picking up my t-shirt from the floor and pulling it over her head.  She doesn’t even put on panties.  Then she pauses at the door and looks back at me with one eyebrow raised.  “You coming?”

I’m out of bed in a flash.

 

* * *

 

**_Tris_ **

I am almost giddy with excitement as Tobias and I walk toward the entrance of Navy Pier.  This morning, Tobias told me he wanted to take me out on a real, official date.  So I went back to my dorm room and got ready, though not in a dress or anything, since the date would be outdoors in the dead of winter.  But I put my favorite skinny jeans and a soft black sweater on over matching black lace bra and panties, straightened my hair, and fixed my make-up.

Tobias arrived at my door not with a dozen cut roses, but a small potted lily plant.  He remembered me mentioning that I hated seeing flowers die—it’s just such a waste when they could be enjoyed without killing them.  I love my potted plant.  I’ll think of Tobias every time I see it.

I set the potted plant on my windowsill and bend down to smell the blossoms.  “Mmm,” I hum.  “They’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you are,” Tobias says, and I raise my eyebrows.

“Seriously, Four?  That was _so cheesy,_ ” I chuckle as I turn to him.

“It’s the truth,” he grins as he steps closer to me.  “Besides, you loved it.  Admit it.”

“I won’t,” I insist, smiling as he pulls me closer by my hips and kisses my neck.  “I can’t condone anything that cliché.”

“Fine,” he huffs, pulling away.  I begin to back away when a mischievous smirk crosses his face, and he takes a step forward for each one I take back.  “I guess,” he says slowly as my legs hit my bed, stopping me from backing any further away from him, “I’ll have to tickle it out of you!”

I fall back on the bed laughing deep from my belly, writhing and flailing as he pinches at my sides, moving up and down my sides, tickling my stomach.  I’m laughing so hard that my stomach muscles ache.  I swat at him and he grabs both my wrists and suddenly my hands are pinned over my head and we both fall silent, breathless.

“So beautiful,” he whispers before closing the distance between us.

 

* * *

 

Tobias has never been to Navy Pier before, and I have only been here once—I had begged Eric to take me our first summer together, and he did so begrudgingly, complaining that it was too “touristy”.  It turns out that Navy Pier is an entirely different experience in the winter.  It is a winter wonderland here-- in fact, there is a sign that tells us so-- with blow-up snowmen and Christmas decorations everywhere, and the brightly colored lights illuminate the snow in a mosaic of color.

I take a bite of by-the-slice pizza as we walk through Navy Pier.  It’s a warm day for January, and the sun peeks through the gray clouds.  “So, what should we do first?”

I see something flash across Tobias’s eyes, but then he smiles.  “Carousel?”  I laugh—it’s one of the tamest rides here.  But I take the hand he holds out and walk with him toward it.  I hop on a wooden lion, and he takes the zebra next to me.  The ride starts and picks up speed as Calliope music plays from the center of the carousel.  His zebra bobs up as my lion dips downward, then they exchange positions, only level for a moment.  We hold hands the whole time, the angles of our arms pivoting back and forth like a see-saw, both of us laughing at the childish fun.

Next we ride the zero-gravity ride, then one with carriages that spin.  I come out of it so dizzy that I fall against Tobias.

Tobias eyes the strongman game, the one with the big hammer.  He grins at me.  “I’m going to win you one of those _big_ animals.”

“It’ll hardly fit in my dorm room,” I laugh.

Tobias grins.  “Good.  If it crowds you out, you’ll spend more time at mine.”  I push him playfully and he scurries over to the game, giving the operator some cash.

It take three tries for him to hit hard enough to ring the bell, but when he does, he grins at me proudly as he points out the big, three-foot-tall blue bear he wanted for me.  We haven’t made it far before I realize our oversight in winning the bear when he did.

“You know we now have to drag this thing all over the carnival with us, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Tobias answers, rubbing the back of his neck, “I was just realizing that, actually.  Do you want to pick one more ride and take our new friend home?”

I nod eagerly and drag him to my favorite ride: the Centennial Wheel, a ferris wheel that stands several hundred feet tall.

Tobias looks hesitant, but then shoots me a smile and hands the cash to the operator, who closes us in the shiny blue gondola.  This new wheel has only been up for less than a year, and I am pleased to find that the air inside is warm—the gondola is heated.

I sit straight upright next to Tobias, eagerly looking out the window to see the view of the city as we gain altitude.  Our bear friend sits on the bench across from us.  But after a moment, I notice how tense Tobias is.  When I look at his face, I see his clenched jaw, his body’s rigid posture, and beads of sweat forming on his furrowed brow.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.  He is breathing faster than normal.  Tobias’s eyes dart around, but otherwise, he doesn’t move a muscle.  It finally dawns on me.  “You’re afraid of heights.”  I am not asking a question, but rather, stating a fact.

Tobias nods slowly, his face oddly pale under his olive skin tone.

“Why didn’t you say something?!” I scold.  “We didn’t have to do this, Tobias.  I could have waited and gone with Marlene or someone another time.”

Tobias gulps, and his Adam’s apple bobs.  “I told you before, Tris,” he says.  “You make me feel brave.  I don’t want to make my decisions out of fear.  With you, I can face it.”  He stares into my eyes—through them, beyond them, into my soul, and I know there is much more to what he is saying than just facing his fear of heights.  There is more that he wants to face, with me to back him up, with me to rely on.

Then Tobias leans in and, gripping my waist a little harder than he normally would, he grazes his lips against mine.  I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, deepening the kiss, and we forget everything around us for a few minutes.  When the gondola stops, swinging back and forth, we pull away and I see that we are at almost the very top of the wheel.

“Wow,” I whisper, taking in the city lights around us.  I scoot toward Tobias on the bench, so that my hip is flush against his, and put my arm around his back, my hand on his waist.  He wraps his arm around my shoulder, and grasps my free hand with his, gripping it tightly.  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”  I glance at him and as he opens his mouth and I interrupt him.  “And _don’t_ say ‘not as beautiful as you are,’ again,” I giggle.  “I can’t take any more cheeseball comments today.”

“Cheeseball?!” he gasps.  “Don’t make fun of my Wisconsin roots.”  He presses a kiss to my temple.  He’s still tense, but not nearly as much as before, when the ride first started.

We kiss most of the way down, taking our time, not in any rush.  I could kiss him all day long.  When the gondola stops at the bottom and the attendant opens the door, Tobias smiles at me—finally relaxed—and offers me his right hand as he picks up my giant stuffed bear with his left.

“Well,” Tobias says, drawing lazy circles on my palm, “should we go introduce this guy to his new home, or do you want to grab some ice cream before we go?”

“Too cold for ice cream,” I decide after a moment of contemplation.  “Let’s take Big Blue home, and then we can cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie, and drink some hot chocolate to warm up,” I suggest.

Tobias agrees as we reach what I think must be a big patch of grass, but it’s covered by snow.  Then he says, “Big Blue, huh?  That’s not very creative, Beatrice.”

I push him over, and Big Blue breaks his fall as he lands on the snowy ground.  “I can’t believe you just called me Beatrice,” I grumble, shaking my head.  When he smiles at me, though, I can’t help smiling back, no matter what he just called me.

“What?” he says, surprising me by sweeping my legs out from under me and quickly pinning me to the ground when I fall, laughing.  “I thought I’d try it out.  No good?”

I shake my head.  “Definitely not.  Maybe on special occasions.  You know, holidays, anniversaries…”

“So there will be anniversaries?” he murmurs in my ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth.

I inhale sharply before humming, “Mmhmm… there’d better be.”

“Good.”  Then he sits back on his heels before standing and offering me a hand to pull me up.  I take it and let him pull me to my feet.  “Come on, let’s get Big Blue home.”

I smile to myself as we walk to his car, amazed that this sexy, sweet, fun boy is mine.


	26. Lately

 

_**Tris** _   
_January_

"Is this seriously how this dude wanted to portray himself?" Marlene asks, wrinkling her nose at Henri Fantin-Latour's self-portrait. "Seriously, he looks totally fucking demonic. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong."

I stifle a laugh. "You know, Mar… I can't do that."

Marlene, Shauna and I are hanging out, just us girls, for the first time since their return to Chicago after the winter break from school. They were back home in Wisconsin for just about a month. We texted a bit, and Marlene called me once, but that was the extent of our contact over the holidays. Today, we decided to take advantage of one of the Art Institute of Chicago's free admission days. We started with an exhibition of Japanese black-and-white, ink on paper artwork and are now in the Master Drawing exhibition.

We chat as we make our way through the gallery, and the girls tell me about the parties they went to and things they did back in Milwaukee over the school break. It isn't until we're sitting down with pastries and coffee at a little cafe near the museum that they really start grilling me about what Tobias and I did with our break here.

"So," Shauna says hopefully, "that whole 'we keep our relationship private' thing. Was that just an Eric thing, or does that apply to Four, too?"

I'm not sure how to answer her. I mean, yes, it was Eric that would have been pissed if I had given details about our relationship and he'd heard about it. On the other hand… I have never talked about this sort of stuff before, and I can feel the blood rushing to my face just at the idea of sharing all the dirty details. But maybe I can talk about our relationship a little… just not our sex life. Which, by the way, is really good. Really, really good.

"Um… it was mostly an Eric thing, but I still have my own limits. What do you want to know?" I answer nervously.

"Well… how did it finally happen?" Marlene asks, her eyes bright and hungry for information. "I mean, when we finished up the term you were  _barely_  back on speaking terms… but then he stuck around here and when we came back..." She wiggles her eyebrows and the three of us burst into a fit of giggles.

"Uh, well…" I run my fingers through my hair nervously- I'm just not at all used to talking about any of this.

I tell them about some of the things we did together over winter break, and eventually, I get to that New Year's Eve party. "So, do you remember the girl he was making out with at that last party we all went to?"

"Yes," Marlene laughs. "Uriah broke that up by spilling a drink all over her. He told me afterwards that he did it on purpose, for you, Tris."

"For me?" I gasp. "Why?!"

Shauna rolls her eyes. "He saw how you reacted to finding Four making out with that skank; you were obviously upset. And it was so clear to all of us that he likes you, too. Of course, by then, you were making out with what's-his-name. Four saw you and stomped off to the dorm to pout about it."

Wow, okay then. I guess I didn't know about most of the happenings of that evening. "Well, I'm glad that Uri spilled a drink all over her, because on New Year's, not only did she take the drink that Four got for me, right out of his hand. I told her off while he was getting me another… after he got her name wrong when he introduced her to me." Marlene and Shauna erupt into laughter. "But she spilled some gross red punch all over me when we were dancing later."

"Bitch," Marlene mutters before taking a bite of her cheese danish.

Shauna nods in agreement. "So what did you do?!"

" _I_ didn't do anything, really," I admit. "Four did. He told her off and then asked if I wanted to get out of there, and I did, so we went back to his place." Shauna and Marlene are both leaning towards me, listening intently. "And then he asked if he could kiss me when the ball dropped, and I said he could… and when he did, one thing led to another, and by the next morning we were a couple."

My friends let out girly squeals and begin to discuss the part of Four and my relationship that I would really rather keep private.

"So did you guys do it that night?! From… what I've heard before… well, I always thought Zeke should ask him for tips," Shauna says in a hushed voice.  _Oh my god… I don't want to talk about this… or about Shauna and Zeke._  Marlene, talking over her, shoots more questions at me. "Is he bigger than Eric? I mean, Christina told me Four was bigger than her ex in Chicago, but… I'm still curious."

Is my face on fire? Cause it just got really hot in here. Ugh, I'm sure I am  _bright_  red. Four  _is_  bigger than Eric, but I'm not answering that question for her. "Sorry, but this part of my relationship, I don't feel comfortable discussing it. All I'll tell you is that I am most definitely satisfied." I can only hope that Four is, too. "It's not like you've never heard details about Four before, he dated Christina for like a year, after all, and she's  _not_  at all shy. I mean, I'd think you'd already know." I lean back and sip my coffee.

Marlene shrugs. "True. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to, anyway. We've just never gotten to talk about that stuff with you. Anyway, is he just super sweet with you? He seems like he would be."

I smile and tell them about the potted flowers he brought me last week, and how he remembered what I had said months ago about cut flowers. They coo and gush, and I blush, embarrassed at the attention.

"He was with Chris for a long time, but hearing about the way he is with you, well, it's not the same," Shauna says, shaking her head. "I mean yeah, he cared about Chris, but not like he cares for you. He's totally different with you."

"She's right," Marlene adds. "Like Chris was always dragging him along to things she wanted to do but with you... he  _wants_  to go along with you. And the way he looks at you… totally smitten. He wasn't like that with Chris, not even in the beginning."

I shake my head. "I doubt that." Chris is gorgeous, and I am not. They have to be seeing things. Things that aren't really there. I really don't want to argue about it, though, so I am relieved when Marlene changes the subject.

"How's your new roommate? She has to at least be better than Molly, right?" Marlene scowls when she mentions Molly. The pair have had several run-ins both last semester and already another this week; I think Molly must hate Mar just because she hangs out with me.

"Oh, anyone is better than Molly," I agree. "Yeah, she's alright. She got back from visiting her family a few days ago. Her name is Nari and she's a sophomore. She is an exchange student from South Korea. That's pretty much all I know about her… because she doesn't speak much English." Nari speaks  _some_  English, and I think she understands a lot more than she can speak, but we haven't truly had a real conversation. "She's quiet and she doesn't bother me. My only complaint really would be that she keeps her lamp on until two in the morning when she finally goes to bed, and I like to go running at six in the morning."

"No big deal, when you can always stay with Four, right?" Shauna teases, nudging my elbow.

I smirk. "Right."

Really, though, I just want to stand on my own two feet. I don't want to be so reliant on my boyfriend, or anyone else, anymore. So I don't let Nari's habits influence my sleeping arrangements; I stay with Four when he and I both really want that, but I won't allow it to become "home", like I did before with Eric. I am not that girl any more. I'm stronger now.

* * *

The snow crunches under my feet and my breath sends small, white clouds of mist into the air with each exhale.

"Are you sure you know where you're going? This isn't one of those guy things, you know, where you're lost but you refuse to ask for directions so you won't admit it?" During the few weeks we avoided one another, Tobias and I each found several new routes for our runs, and we're still showing one another new things.

Tobias shoots a glare at me. "No, I am not lost," he huffs. "I know exactly where I'm going. I've just been waiting for a nice day to show you this place! Have I questioned  _your_  ability to lead us back home when you've shown me your routes? I've lived here long enough to get my bearings by now."

I narrow my eyes at him, but can't hold back my smile for long. "Well, are we almost there? This seems a little longer than our usual route and I have a nine-thirty class."

"We're almost there," he assures me as we veer off out of the unfamiliar neighborhood and into a wooded area. "Don't worry. You won't be late on the first day, and you'll be back early enough not to rush too much."

"You know me so well," I laugh . As soon as I am quiet again, along with the crunching sounds under our feet and the rhythm of our breaths, I can just make out the sound of rushing water, and it gets louder as we continue on. Soon we slow to a walk, and then, a stream with a small but beautiful waterfall comes into view.

"Wow, this is beautiful," I breathe. Tobias lays his jacket down on the ground and pulls me down to sit next to him. "We should take a picnic here when it warms up this spring."

Tobias wraps his arm around my waist and kisses my cheek as he pulls me against him. "We will definitely do that." We cuddle up to one another.

"So, what's your first class this morning?" I ask. Today is the first day of the new semester, another fresh start.

"Speech at ten o'clock this morning," Tobias groans. "I  _hate_  speaking in front of people."

I cringe slightly, thinking of the career Marcus wants him to prepare for- a lawyer or politician, both of which require frequent public speaking. I want to point it out, but it isn't like he doesn't know, and I do realize it's not simple or easy to stand up to someone like Marcus. It has to be when he chooses, and it has to be when he is ready. But I have high hopes that he is working up to it, and that he won't allow his father to treat him this way forever.

So I say, "The core class that we all have to take?" Tobias nods. "Well, it's good to get it over with. You'll need that no matter what you major in."

"How about you? What do you have at nine-thirty?" Tobias says, pushing the attention off of himself. He caught what I was getting at.

"Art History. I'm actually really looking forward to that one!"

We quickly decide to head back to the dorm and get ready for the day. When we arrive back at the Dauntless dormitory building, Tobias walks me to my room on the fourth floor.

"Why don't you come up to my place to shower?" he suggests. "Then we can go down to breakfast together."

I roll my eyes and laugh as I unlock the door, but motion for him to follow me in and put a finger to my lips before gesturing to the person-shaped lump in my roommate's bed. Nari stays up late at night, and she also sleeps late in the mornings, so I do prefer to get ready at Tobias's. Plus, my floor doesn't have en suite bathrooms for each dorm room, and I definitely prefer a normal bathroom over the big girls' bathroom on my dorm floor. I quickly toss some clothes into a bag and grab my backpack before following Tobias out.

Besides, I am pretty sure Tobias has more in mind than just showering, and I would be lying if I said that the thought didn't make my heart beat a little faster.

Sure enough, as soon as the door to his apartment closes behind us, Tobias's arms wrap around me from behind, and his lips begin trailing kisses along my neck and jaw. I let out a moan as his teeth graze my skin. His hands begin traveling up my sides, raising the hem of my shirt with them. "Tobias…" I breathe. "Are we alone?" His roommate just got back on Saturday, and we aren't fully used to having someone else here just yet.

"Spencer?" Tobias calls out loudly. Receiving no answer, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the bathroom. "I think he stayed at his girlfriend's place last night." I shut the bathroom door behind us as Tobias turns the knob and shuts the shower door, letting the water warm up.

A moment later, I am pressed between Tobias and the counter behind me, and he immediately traps my lips in a kiss. It starts out slow and quickly builds, turning passionate and hungry. His hands slide slowly down my sides as I tug at his curly brown hair, eliciting a groan. My tongue runs across his lower lip and he doesn't hesitate to let me in, our tongues soon fighting for dominance. We quickly undress each other, our lips only breaking contact when we pull our shirts over our heads.

Tobias gives me one more kiss, his hands on my cheeks, before stepping away from me; I pout in response. But then he grabs my hand and leads me to the shower.

I stand under the hot water and let the water soak into my hair before stepping back and letting Tobias do the same. I watch the water drip down the olive skin on his chiseled chest and defined six-pack as he grabs the shampoo I keep on the shelf and pours some into my palm. His fingers massage my scalp as he lathers it in my hair and I can't help closing my eyes and humming in appreciation. After I have rinsed my hair, I condition it then motion for Tobias to lower his head so I can wash his hair as well.

I lather the soap between my hands and slowly run my hands over his shoulders and arms, his shoulder blades and spine… then back to his shoulders and down his chest and stomach, feeling each dip and ridge from his defined muscles. When I reach his rock hard dick, I take my time, stroking him a few times and he moans in appreciation.

As the water rinses the soap from Tobias's body, I slowly stroke him a few more times and kiss up his chest and along his collarbone and neck. Tobias flips our positions and traps me firmly between his body and the shower wall, lifting me by my thighs. I whimper as I feel him rock hard, pressed against my thigh. Resting his forehead against mine, he grinds his hips against mine.

"Tris… I need to be inside you," he growls. Just the sound of his deep, rumbling voice sends a shiver through me. I lock eyes with him and nod, already breathless.

Tobias crushes his lips against mine, our teeth clicking together, as he enters me in one hard thrust. I moan into his mouth and dig my fingers into his shoulders as he begins to pound his hips against mine, setting a steady rhythm, not too slow and not too fast. I arch my back and lean my head back against the shower wall. Bursts of pleasure shoot through me. "Fuck," I pant. "Oh, god, Tobias… faster…"

Tobias's thrusts pick up speed and I'm seeing stars, tingles rolling through me in waves. "God, Tris, you feel so good," he moans; I just curse and babble, unable to form a thought.

Fire pools low in my abdomen and I feel a familiar tightening. "Tobias… I'm about to…" I stutter, trailing off as the tension inside me coils.

"Me too, baby," he grunts. With a roll of his hips and a nip to my earlobe, he pushes me over the edge. The tension in my core bursts, sending trails of fire outward, and the world around me becomes static. Tobias kisses me hard and muffles my scream as his thrusts become erratic. After a few more jerks of his hips, he stills and pants into the crook of my neck I hold on tight to his shoulders, breathless.

After we catch our breath, Tobias puts me back on my feet. He lathers soap in his hands and my breath hitches as he runs his hands smoothly over my body, especially when his hands run over the extra-sensitive skin between my legs and on my inner thighs. I turn off the water once I am rinsed clean and we each wrap ourselves in a towel. I can't help giggling as Tobias sticks his head out the door and glances around to make sure Spencer won't see me walking through the living room in just a towel. That was definitely better than showering in the girls' bathroom on my floor.

* * *

Art History was a lot less interesting than I had expected, but I'm hoping it will get better- it's only the first day, after all. I survived Algebra as well; it's a 100's level class but it won't be easy for me; math just isn't my strong suit. Tobias is good at it, though- I think he's taking Statistics this semester- so I'm sure he will be able to help me when I struggle.

Tobias' and my lunches don't line up today, but I did find Zeke and Uriah in the main dining hall on campus, so I was at least entertained throughout my lunch break. Now I am headed to my last class of the day- my only afternoon class this term, American History. I am about more than five minutes early, and only a few other students are here, so I take a seat near the far back corner of the room and pull out my phone. There's a sweet text from Tobias, wishing me a good first day of classes, and I send back a flirty, teasing response referencing our shower this morning. Because it's true- he definitely started off my day on a positive note.

I'm responding to the other text I have received- one from my friend Amber, who I met in photography class last semester, confirming that yes, we're in the same Photography II section and to please save me a seat next to her tomorrow. We transition quickly into brief questions and answers about our winter breaks. About two minutes before class is to start, I glance up from my phone to see Eric and Christina walking in the door.

 _Great, just great_. I would have been happy to never see either one of them for the rest of my life, and now they'll be shoved in my face every Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoon for the next four months. Eric's eyes meet mine and widen, but he quickly looks away, guiding Christina with a hand at the small of her back.

They are some of the last people to enter the classroom, and of course, the only two seats together happen to be on this side of the room, just two rows ahead of me. I notice Christina pushing her desk a little closer to Eric's when she sits down and I roll my eyes. They hold hands in the empty aisle between them. Eric glances back at me nervously, almost looking apologetic.  _Whatever, why should I even care? I don't want Eric back, and I have Tobias. What we have is so much better than what I ever had with Eric. I don't care. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care._

But for some reason I  _do_  care, even though I truly  _don't_  want to be with Eric any more. I become distracted several times from the lecture, instead watching the happy couple.

The lecture doesn't last long; first, the usual first day stuff- going over the syllabus and the professor's office hours and expectations. He does give a short lecture, but lets us go only an hour into the class, which is scheduled to run for two hours.

As I pack up my backpack, I hear Eric and Christina arguing a few yards ahead of me. I didn't catch what started the argument, but as students clear out of the classroom and there is less background noise, it's hard to ignore the tail end. As I make my way to the door, my ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend following a little ways behind, I hear Christina laying right back into Eric and then his apology.

 _What?! Eric apologizing?_  It's all I can do to keep walking instead of stopping dead in my tracks and turning to stare at him. Eric and I dated for over two years, and I could probably count the number of times I heard the words "I'm sorry" out of his mouth on one hand. Their dynamic seems so completely different from what he and I had.

I can't help but wonder… maybe Eric was never the problem at all.

Maybe it was always me


	27. Turn It Again

_**Tobias** _   
_Mid-January_

"Okay, watch me," I say as I get into the throwing stance. Tris's eyes rake down me and back up, and she blushes when she sees me smirk. "You want to keep your torso totally stable, and your weight should be on your forward foot, okay?" She watches carefully as I throw the first dart, then the second and third. Two hit the bullseye; the third is just outside of it.

Spencer, my roommate, had his dartboard in his bedroom, but after we played together a few times, he decided to put it in the living room where we'd have more space to play and so that I could use it when he wasn't here. Tris wanted to try as soon as she saw it, though she's never thrown a dart before.

We've completed nearly a week of the new semester, and I enjoy my psychology class on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons most. I'm not interested in psychology, really, but Tris is in the class with me. She had to work Tuesday afternoon, but we both have a day off today. She was in a much better mood than she was some of the other afternoons this week, thankfully, and didn't hesitate to come back to the apartment with me after class.

"You try now," I say, stepping back. She holds all three darts in her left hand as she copies my stance. I watch her mimic my arm movement a few times without the dart in her hand.

"Forget what a dart is?" Spencer teases, coming out of his room.

"Shut up, Spence," Tris grumbles as she passes the first dart to her right hand. She continues practicing, this time holding the dart, but not letting it fly.

Spencer leans back against the wall with his arms crossed, smirking at her. They have a bit of a love-hate thing going on already, kind of like siblings. It's only been a week and a half since Spencer came back from winter break, but he has turned out to be laid back and personable. It seems like he puts everyone he meets at ease right away.

Tris finally throws the dart, and it sticks in the board on her first try. It's not a bullseye, of course, but it's not way out at the edge, either. She sticks her tongue out at Spencer and he laughs and gives her a thumbs up. Then he lets me know that he's staying at his girlfriend's tonight as he makes his way to the door.

I watch Tris throw the second dart, which lands high rather than low—though still in the board rather than putting holes in the wall, like I was preparing myself for—and I step closer to her. First I open up her last two fingers so that they don't curl against her palm, then I press my chest to her back and guide her arm movement.

"Ready to try again?" I say softly into her ear, and she shivers before she nods. I kiss softly just below her ear before I step away. When she throws the next dart, it's just a couple inches from the bullseye. "Good job, Tris," I say, reflecting back her satisfied smile. "You're a natural."

Both Monday and Wednesday, when I saw her in the afternoon, she was quiet and distant. I hated the feeling I got that she was shutting me out, but whatever was bothering her, she hasn't volunteered to tell me. I'm fairly certain, though, that it has something to do with her history class. When yesterday was a repeat of Monday afternoon, I asked Zeke how she seemed at lunch both days, as he had mentioned that they ate together. She was fine then, and the only thing that happened both days between lunch and talking to her in the afternoon was that history class. I will be surprised if she isn't in the same closed-off, withdrawn mood tomorrow afternoon. Maybe I can get her mind off of whatever it is more quickly tomorrow.

"Hey, Tris, what time are you off work tomorrow?" I ask, remembering that I don't work as late on Fridays now as I did with the fall class schedule.

Tris looks up kind of toward the ceiling as she tries to remember. "Hmmm… six o'clock, I think. Why?"

"I thought maybe… we could go out on a date? A nice dinner?" Why am I nervous? She's my girlfriend, I shouldn't be nervous asking her on a date. Maybe it's because she's been a little off this week.

But she agrees, of course, and my mind goes to work making plans.

* * *

I hurry to the part of the campus's main dining hall, where Zeke said he and Uriah have been eating with Tris before her history class. My criminology course, which has kept me from joining them for lunch the other days, doesn't meet on Fridays. Of course I want to see Tris and my friends, but I am also curious about this history class that seems to be putting her in such a bad mood.

I spot them across the room. Uriah appears to be telling a story, looking quite animated as he gestures with his hands. Tris sits next to him, her eyes bright as she nearly doubles over with laughter. A strand of hair has fallen into her face from the long braid that falls over her left shoulder. Zeke grins at them from his seat on Uri's opposite side.

I just admire her for a moment. My heart rate picks up a bit and my stomach does a little flip every time I see her. She is so beautiful… so smart and kind and brave.

Finally I decide that if I stare any longer, I'll look like a total creeper, so I make my way across the room to them. I wrap an arm around Tris's shoulders and kiss her cheek as I drop into the seat next to her.

"Four!" she says, and she sounds so happy to see me. My stomach does another flip. "I didn't expect to see you until later."

"My criminology class doesn't meet on Fridays. I asked Zeke where you've been eating so I could surprise you."

"Glad you made it, man," Zeke says, smiling at me.

Uriah just looks confused. "You aren't gonna eat?"

I shake my head. "I'll come back and eat later. If I get my food now, Tris will have to leave for class as soon as I make it back to the table."

"Actually," Tris cuts in, glancing at her watch, "it's almost time for me to go. So hurry and finish your story, Uri!"

Uriah complies, though I have no idea what he's talking about, presumably because I missed the first half. Instead I enjoy listening to Tris laugh as I steal a few French fries from her plate. She gives up slapping my hand away after the third one.

"I'm sorry to leave you so soon, but I have to get to class now," Tris says regretfully.

I shake my head. "You don't have to leave me yet. I'll walk you there."

Tris smiles and thanks me. She starts to gather her tray to throw out her trash, but I quickly take it from her and take it to a trash can as she puts on her backpack and slings her purse over her shoulder. "Ready?" she asks when I return.

We hold hands as we walk. The building her history class meets in is about a five minute walk from the dining hall. We chat, but it seems to become a bit one-sided as we near her class. We reach the building and she pauses, but I push the door open and walk in with her. I want to walk her to the classroom and see if I can figure out what the problem is with this class. I don't tell her that, of course.

We take the stairs to the third floor—she knows I don't like elevators. We walk almost to the end of the hall before she stops outside an open door. "Well, this is me," she says.

"Okay," I say. I pull her to the side of the door, still in the hall, and take a step forward, backing her against the wall. My hand cups her cheek and her arms wrap around my neck as I lean down and kiss her. It's long and slow, as if we have all the time in the world.

When I have pulled away, Tris blushes and smiles. "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Definitely," I murmur. "I'll pick you up from work. Six o'clock, right?" She nods. "We have reservations at seven-thirty. Is an hour long enough for you to get ready?"

"Of course." Tris rolls her eyes, and I laugh. I love that Tris doesn't obsess over her clothes and make-up like  _some_  girls. "Okay, I've gotta go. I'll see you tonight."

"Can't wait." I watch her walk into the room. And then I see them.

Christina and Eric.

Tris takes the long way around the perimeter of the classroom and comes from the back to sit in a desk a few rows behind them. I see the way her shoulders slump and she tries to pretend they aren't there… but fails and glances at them, frowning. The instructor nods at me as he enters the classroom, shutting the solid wood door behind him.

So  _that's_  what's wrong. Clearly it's seeing her ex and the girl he cheated with. But the thing I don't quite understand is… why does it bother her? Chris is in my statistics class, but I hadn't given it a second thought. I could care less. I've got the girl of my dreams; I realize now that I settled for Christina because there was no girl I liked the way I like Tris. But never having experienced what I feel for her… I didn't realize how luke-warm my feelings for Chris were.

Either way, I don't care if I see her. And I don't really understand why Tris cares enough for it to put her in such a bad mood.

Unless… unless she misses Eric.

But that can't be, right? Her feelings for me are real, I'm sure of it. Pretty sure, at least. At least I hope they are.

Fuck.

* * *

_**Tris** _

The hostess at Arabella's seats us at a nice, private little candlelit table. It's out of the view of most other guests, near a window that overlooks the lake, and little fairy lights twinkle on the small potted tree a few yards away. We can see most of the restaurant if we look, but at the same time, we are in our own little world.

It's a really nice restaurant and the moment we pulled up, I felt guilty about the money it would cost Tobias for us to eat here. I told him that he really didn't have to, but he insisted that he  _wanted_ to take me out for a nice dinner, that I deserved it. I don't know what I could possibly have done to deserve being spoiled like this, but he was excited to bring me here and I could tell him it would only hurt him if I argued, so I just smiled and thanked him.

I look over the menu and decide on the ravioli with a salad, then close it. Tobias is still looking at his when the waiter comes to the table. "Welcome to Arabella's. Our specials tonight are an apple-goat cheese salad and the grilled chicken with sun-dried tomato goat cheese. Can I start you off with some drinks or appetizers?"

"Wine?" Tobias asks me. I nod, though I feel a twinge of guilt again at the money he is spending on me. "We'll each take a glass of merlot," he says, pulling his fake ID out of his wallet; I dig into my purse for my own. Just as I have been every time I've been in this situation, I'm nervous that this man will know that these are fake, but he looks them over, then nods as he hands them back.

"I'll give you a few more minutes to decide," the waiter says, "and be back with your merlot soon."

"Wow, this is beautiful," I say after the waiter walks away. "You really know how to make a girl feel special."

"Well, you  _are_  special," Tobias retorts as he closes his menu. He stares into my eyes and I stare back. I don't think I will ever stop getting lost in his dark blue eyes. In the dim light of the restaurant, they almost look black. His eyelashes are thick and black, and they are so long that they touch the skin below his eyebrows. He is beautiful, and he is smart and strong and so sweet to me, and I know he is out of my league. But for some reason that I may never understand, he chooses to be with  _me_.

We talk about everything and nothing, pausing to give the waiter our orders. It is just me and Tobias, and the stresses of the week seem insignificant.

But then the world finds me. Over Tobias's shoulder, trailing behind the hostess, I see none other than Christina, Eric… and Eric's parents.  _Are you fucking kidding me?! I can't just have one nice, stress-free dinner with Tobias?_ And—even better!—they are being seated at a table very near us, but a partial wall and a series of potted plants blocks their view of Tobias and me. But they are close enough that I know I'll be able to hear every word they say.

Tobias glances at Eric and Christina, then nervously at me. "So, I was thinking, we should go camping up in Wisconsin this summer. With the whole gang. And Shauna's sister Lynn can come, and our friend Will… I know you haven't met Will yet but you'll like him, I think," Tobias rambles. It's like he suddenly needs to fill the empty space, maybe so we both forget who is at the table on the other side of that partition.

"Christina, dear, it is so good to see you! It's been too long." Eric's mother. She always hated me. "And it is such a relief to see Eric so happy!"

"I know, I know, I've missed you, too, Iris," I hear Christina gush.  _Iris?! Eric's mother never let me call her by her first name. Two years together and I still had to call her Mrs. Coulter!_

I grit my teeth and clench my fists, and feel Tobias staring at me as I take a big gulp of my wine.

"Tris. Just pretend they're not here." Tobias scrubs his hands across his face. " _Please."_  I can hear in his voice how he is almost pleading but I just can't seem to tune out the chatter and laughter coming from Eric's family's table.

" _Tris!"_  he hisses, finally snapping me to attention.

"I'm sorry," I squeak. Ugh, what is wrong with me?! I'm here at this amazing restaurant with this incredible guy… and I can't keep my mind off my asshole ex, his bitchy mom, and the slut he cheated with. "I'm sorry. You're right."

The waiter brings our food, but doesn't say much and looks uncomfortable. Even he can sense the tension.

Tobias chews his pasta and smiles nervously. "So… camping? What do you think?"

I swallow the bite of ravioli that I've been chewing. "Sure," I smile. "I love camping. Do you guys go on hikes and stuff?"

"Well, in the past…" he wrinkles his forehead. I think he's struggling to find a way to say whatever he's going to say, though I don't know why he should be worried about it. It's just camping. "In the past, not everyone has wanted to come and some of the girls would stay behind. But I don't think that will be a problem any more. Just a different… group dynamic now that you'll be with us. At least, I  _hope_  you'd want to come with us."

 _Oh._  Christina never wanted to come. I get the feeling that maybe that annoyed him—so at least I have that going for me, I guess, because I'd definitely want to join him. Nonetheless, Christina is now digging her way to the very center of my thoughts.

A few yards away, Iris— _Mrs. Coulter,_ to me—is going on about a botched pedicure, and then Christina is starting in on an anecdote about a time something similar happened to her. They're just a damn match made in heaven. Figures.

"Tris…" Tobias groans. I see the disappointment in his eyes, maybe even hurt. My stomach twists. I hate that I'm hurting him like this, and even more, I hate that I can't seem to help it.

"Um…" I stammer. "I'm… I'm going to the restroom. Please excuse me?" He tries to stifle his sigh, but I still hear it. He knows I'm going so I can compose myself, not so much because I actually need to use the facilities. I keep my head down as I walk to the restroom, hoping they won't see me.

After I have used the toilet and washed my hands, I stare into the mirror for a moment. My skin is too pale and my hair a dull, lackluster blond. My eyes look totally gray tonight. I pull out my blush compact and begin to add a little more color to my cheeks.

And, of course, Christina is everywhere, so she's suddenly here in the ladies' room now, too. She walks through the door into the bathroom and when we spot each other, we both freeze.

"Tris." She sounds cautious, but cold.

"Christina," I reply slowly as I put away my blush and pull out my lip gloss as she disappears into one of the bathroom stalls. I hate that she is here. I hate that she is everywhere I go, that Eric is a better man with her. What makes her worth treating with respect, but not me? Why does she make him so happy, while I didn't? Is there something just innately wrong with me? Even his mother seems to love Christina… but she always hated me. It makes me wonder what Tobias is even doing with me.

As I put away my lip gloss, Christina comes out of the bathroom and washes her hands. She stands at the counter next to me, touching up her perfect make-up on her perfect skin. Her dress is short and tight with a slit on one side, and the neckline dips low, showing off her ample cleavage.

"Don't you think that dress is a little slutty for dinner with the boyfriend's parents?" I sneer at her. I don't even know why.

Christina recoils, then her face hardens. "Iris doesn't seem to think so. Or, that's right— _Mrs. Coulter_  to you, isn't it? Eric said his mother never did let you call her by her first name." I scowl, even though she's right. Or maybe  _because_  she's right. "How about you,  _Beatrice?_  I saw you and Four outside of class this afternoon. Enjoying my sloppy seconds?"

I roll my eyes. Whatever. "And it seems you're enjoying mine, too, aren't you?"

Christina laughs. "No, honey, sloppy seconds are  _your_  thing, not mine. Eric already fell into that category when you started dating him."

 _What?!_  I just stare. What is she talking about? Eric and I were together from our junior year in high school. She didn't even know him back then… did she?

"I guess he never told you, did he?" she continues. "Eric and I dated in high school. But I moved away before you showed up." Christina is the ex. He never told me… that she was his  _ex-girlfriend?!_  Did Tobias know? Am I the only one who was completely unaware, like some idiot?!

I start to rush out of the bathroom, but Christina's grip on my arm stops me. "Wait! Tris, wait." I stop and turn to her, my eyes burning. "I don't know why I said any of that, Tris. I'm sorry. I honestly don't want to hurt you, or Four, either. I'm happy with Eric, we're good together. And you are much better for Four than I ever was, I can tell. I… just… I'm sorry, and I hope you and Four are really happy together."

I don't know what to say to that, whether to believe that her apology is genuine. I walk out of the restroom without another word. But when I am alone in the hallway, I realize that I can't go back to the table like this. I can feel how flushed my cheeks are—why did I put on more blush?! My hands are clenched into fists and my heart is pounding loudly in my ears. I lean against the wall and try to calm myself. But of course, Christina exits the restroom and sees me, and the pitying look on her face nearly sends me over the edge.

After another minute or two, I push off the wall and let out a deep breath, then make my way back to the table. Tobias has packaged our leftovers in little to go boxes.

"It seemed like you were done—I hope you don't mind that I packed it up," he says. His face is blank. I don't think that's a good thing. I fake a smile and nod to tell him that it's fine. I think about the way I have let my reaction to Eric and Christina dampen such a nice gesture as this fancy dinner, and guilt eats at my stomach.

"So, what else would you like to do tonight?" My voice sounds unnaturally high and tight.

Tobias shrugs as he signs the receipt and slides it back into the little black booklet the waiter left, along with a couple of bills for the tip. "Uh… we'll play it by ear, I guess." My fake smile falters.

* * *

The first five minutes of our drive home is silent. Tobias doesn't even glance my way. I do notice how tightly he grips the steering wheel and the way his jaw clenches.

I know it's only going to make things worse, but I have to know. "Did you know that Eric and Christina dated in high school, before she moved to Milwaukee?"

I count the seconds to occupy my mind while I wait for him to answer. I've reached six-Mississippi when he finally says, "No. And I really don't give a shit. But apparently, you do."

What do I even say to that? I don't know how to explain why it matters to me, I'm not even sure that I understand it completely. At the same time… I don't quite understand how it  _doesn't_  matter to him.

"It really doesn't bother you that for like three months, you were living with your girlfriend's ex and she never bothered to mention their history?"

"Nope," he deadpans. "Christina could have screwed the whole football team and I wouldn't give a fuck. Why should I? I'm already with the girl of my dreams. I don't need to waste my time caring what those assholes do. They already proved what kind of people they were when they cheated on us."

He makes a good point. I just wish it was that easy for me to be as detached as he is. But I guess that Christina was never as important to him as Eric was, for so long, to me. It isn't so easy for me to just let go of the one person who was everything to me during the hardest time of my life.

"And I'm trying really hard," he continues, "not to read into your reaction, Tris. But it kind of feels like I'm not… like I'm not that important to you, or not enough for you… or like you wish you were with Eric instead of me. But it's hard not to feel that way when you're so bothered by just seeing Eric and Christina in your damn history class, let alone what I witnessed in that restaurant."

"Tobias…" I plead, tears filling my eyes. "I'm so sorry, I don't mean for you to feel that way. You know how important Eric was in my life these past few years. I didn't have the support of friends like you did. He… he meant a lot to me. I don't want him back, I can promise you that. But that doesn't mean that it isn't hard to see that he… I don't know, that he will try to be better for  _her,_  when he wouldn't for me. And that his mother lets Chris call her Iris when I could only call her Mrs. Coulter. And on and on… you know? I just… I feel like something is wrong with  _me_ , that Christina is better than me in some way."

Tobias pulls into a parking spot in the dormitory parking lot and turns off the truck, but we just sit there in the dark, him silently staring ahead while I watch him out of the corner of my eye.

Finally he looks at me. His deep blue eyes appear black in the dim lighting. He reaches out and touches my cheek with his fingertips, and it sends a shiver through me. "There is no way— _none—_ that Christina is 'better' than you, Tris. Not in my eyes. Can you please try to remember that?"

I nod slowly, my eyes still locked on his. "I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't enough for me, Tobias. I honestly can't even figure out how you're interested in me, so it's certainly not that."

"Well, I don't know how I managed to get your attention, either, so I guess we're even," he says, smiling shyly. And I lean forward, wrap an arm around his neck, and pull him in for a kiss. We're okay. Even if nothing else is okay, Tobias and I are.


	28. Transcending

_**Tris** _   
_February_

I frown at the laptop screen. The photo I've been editing looks good… but it's not perfect yet. It's missing something, but I just can't seem to put my finger on it. I sigh in frustration; I've been staring at this screen for fifteen minutes and nothing's coming to me.

"Hey, Beautiful," Tobias says as he looks at the screen from behind me, placing both hands on my shoulders. "Wow. That's an amazing photo. I wouldn't mind a print of that one. It reminds me of our first date." The photo I'm working on is of the ferris wheel at Navy Pier, all lit up at dusk.

"I can certainly do that for you," I say, "whenever I figure out what it's missing and fix it."

"Well," he says, "it looks perfect to  _me,_ but you're the artist."

I quickly save my work and close out the editing software before swiveling in Tobias's desk chair and getting to my feet. I step closer to him, so there are inches between us, and wrap my arms around Tobias's neck. "Thank you for letting me use your laptop again," I say.

Tobias rolls his eyes. "Would you quit thanking me for that? I've told you over and over, you're welcome to use it anytime."

"Th-" I start, then stop myself and just smile and pull his head down toward mine until our lips meet. I give him a slow, sweet kiss and pull away before it can heat up too much; he has to leave for work in fifteen minutes.

I take a step back and turn to start gathering up my schoolwork into my backpack. "I need to go to Northwestern and use their library sometime this week," I tell him. "My professor suggested that using their library to research for this paper would be a good idea. Apparently their art history reference section is a lot more extensive than our library's. You don't happen to need to go there for anything as well, do you?" I know I can just ask to use his truck, but I still haven't entirely gotten past the caution that became second nature when I was dating Eric.

Tobias tosses his jeans in the laundry basket and pulls on a pair of basketball shorts. "No, I can't think of any reason I'd need to go there," Tobias says as he looks at me expectantly. He knows what I need, but he also knows why I don't just come out and ask, and he's going to make me say it. It's frustrating and irritating at times, the way he forces me to come out and ask for what I want, but I know he is only helping me get past the habits that were created in me over the past few years.

I pout, but relent. "Tobias, could I please borrow your truck sometime this week to go use the library at Northwestern?"

"Of course," he says. His smile is so warm and dazzling, all my irritation at his tactics melts away instantly. "I have to work late on Thursday, and I think you're off then, right?" I nod in confirmation. "Why don't you go then. All I ask is that you give me a ride home from work. It'll be pretty cold and dark by the time I get off work at eight-thirty."

"Of course," I agree. "I'll even give you a ride there."

"So generous," he teases with a smirk. He steps closer to me again. I yelp in surprise when he lifts me bridal style without warning. He crashes his lips to mine and takes advantage of my gasp of surprise to push his tongue between my parted lips. Our tongues dance together for a few moments, exploring one another's mouths, before I pull away. Tobias rests his forehead against mine.

"You have to work," I remind him, sticking my lower lip out in a pout. Tobias sighs and sets me on my feet. I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder.

"You don't have to leave whenever I do, you know," he reminds me. "Spencer doesn't mind you being here."

"I know." I don't elaborate, but I've been careful not to get too comfortable here. I don't want to depend upon him the way I did Eric. I want independence; as much as I want Tobias to be a very important part of my life- and he is- I want to have my  _own_  life, too.

* * *

It took me four wrong turns on the Northwestern University campus, but finally I did find their library, as well as a place to park Tobias's truck. I follow the directions given to me at the front desk to find the art history section. I skim the book titles on the shelf, selecting a half-dozen books on the Renaissance; my topic is about how the Renaissance period changed the world of art, and the world itself.

Once I am satisfied with the stack of books at my feet, I carefully lift the whole pile, making sure they don't tip and fall. It takes a little while to find an empty table to work at, and I am nearly halfway across the library when I set down my stack of books. I dive right in, taking notes and using post-its to mark pages I want to photocopy before I leave, making sure to note all the details of my sources for each piece of information in order to include proper citations in my paper.

I have been working for two hours when my stomach begins to growl. I don't want to buy food here or at a drive-thru on the way back to UIC; I've paid for the dining hall points on campus, and I don't want to waste them or my other money. I decide that I can get everything else I need from UIC's library and begin to stack up the books I have been using so that I can make my photocopies and head back to campus.

I have walked less than ten yards when I see a familiar face pouring over a book. I am so startled that I trip, landing sprawled across the floor with my books scattered around me. "Fuck," I curse under my breath; I wasn't sure that I wanted to draw his attention to me.

"Are you okay?" There's no hint of recognition in his voice. I guess that isn't so surprising- he probably didn't notice me until my knees hit the ground, and my head is still down. "Let me help you pick those books up," he adds and I keep my head down as I nod, taking a measured breath and letting it out. I slowly and hesitantly get to my feet and look up, and as I meet his green eyes, I can feel my gaze harden with defiance and anger.

"Thank you," I say coldly. He stands frozen with his lips parted and I take the stack of books from his hands. I'm not sure what to do and I am beginning to panic. After hesitating longer than I'd like, I begin to walk away, toward the copy machines.

"Beatrice! Beatrice, wait!" I stop walking and stand, frozen, still not turning around.

I sigh. "What do you want, Caleb?" My voice cracks on his name, and I can feel tears welling in my eyes, but inside, I mostly just feel… numb. It's almost like an out of body experience. What is he even doing here? I thought he was living in New York. That's where he was headed back to when he abandoned me, anyway.

"I-" Caleb begins, but his words die on his tongue, like he doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what he even wants. What  _is_  there to say? He abandoned me at sixteen years old, newly orphaned, alone in one of the biggest cities in America, and then completely cut contact with me, his own little sister. What can there  _possibly_  be to say?

I shake my head; I just feel disgusted by him. For two years I have felt guilty, sad, lonely, worthless… but today, actually seeing my brother, I just feel angry and disgusted.

But for some reason, when I hear Caleb whisper, "Bea, I'm sorry," I can't take another step. I freeze where I stand, my hands still full with the stack of thick books, not even breathing. Finally I turn and stare at him. I don't glare, or scowl, or smile. I feel numb, and surely my face is emotionless to match.

"When did you come back to Chicago?" I finally ask. How long has he been here, in the same city as me- presumably attending Northwestern- and not bothered to find me?

"I- I started a doctorate program in chemistry here at Northwestern in August."

August. It's now February Six months he has been back. If we hadn't run into one another by chance, would he have  _ever_  come looking for me? Would he ever have made any effort to check and see if I was alright? I doubt it.

"It's been two-and-a-half years, Caleb," I say coldly. "You abandoned me. You left me  _alone._  I was sixteen, for God's sake! You can't just expect…" I shake my head and sigh as I trail off, then I turn and walk away without another word.

* * *

I am almost done making my photocopies, wanting nothing more than to go straight to Tobias and have him wrap me in the safety of his arms, when someone comes up next to me and grabs the stack of papers out of the tray. I glare. It's Caleb. Of course it's Caleb.

He is writing something on the top page of photocopies, and unless I want to find that page in whatever book it was from and copy it again, I can't just throw that paper away. I let out an irritated growl.

"Bea," he pleads. "I left my number, and I'd like to hear from you. I understand that you're angry… you have every right. But I hope that you'll call me, eventually. I love you." I scoff. He looks down at his feet and slowly turns and walks away.

* * *

It's only seven o'clock when I get back to the dorms. Dinner is served until eight-thirty, and seeing my brother left me full of pent-up emotion. Anger, frustration, disgust, hurt, grief… why did my life have to change so drastically all in one night? Why couldn't my brother have seen that I was blaming myself enough for both of us and just chosen to forgive me? What was so wrong with me that I, his own sister, deserved to be abandoned like he did?

And the same question that always assaults my mind…

Why didn't I just take twenty seconds that night to  _lock the goddamn door?_

I realize that I will never really have answers to any of these questions, and they are useless to think about, but they haunt me all the same. So I decide that I will take out all that emotion on the punching bags.

Can I forgive Caleb? Do I even want to try?

Of course,  _my_  stupidity got our parents killed, and I expect Caleb to forgive me for that. Maybe I should forgive him for his reaction. At least he didn't kill anyone.

On the other hand, I didn't mean for anything to happen that night. Caleb  _knew_  what he was doing when he left me. Does the intent matter? I think it does.

I need to talk through all this with someone, even if it is just me talking  _at_  them. I can hardly think straight.

I enter the gym in the dormitory basement and immediately see that I am not alone here. Eric and Christina are about two thirds of the way across the gym from me at a punching bag, facing away from me. Neither seems to have noticed me entering the room. I don't want to be here with them, I really, really don't. On the other hand… I  _do_ need to get this stress out somehow. I stand there a couple of yards from the door to the gym, trying to decide what to do.

"Good, babe. That was a great try," Eric says to Christina after she throws a series of punches that, if I'm honest, looked a bit pathetic.

Christina scoffs. "The bag didn't even move, Eric," she whines.

"That's okay. We'll keep working on it. Your stance is a little off; position your feet like this-" Eric gently repositions her feet "-and bend your knees a bit. Keep tension in your abs." Now he reaches around from behind her and puts both his hands on her stomach, taking the opportunity to lean in and kiss her cheek.

I stand with my lips parted in shock as the scene unfolds before me. Eric patiently gives Christina tip after tip, corrects her again and again, and she does marginally improve. But watching him so patiently and sweetly teaching his new girlfriend- the girl he cheated on me with- brings back memories of Eric teaching  _me_  to throw a punch.

I was living in a shitty apartment in a bad neighborhood, and had recently been mugged just a block from my home. Eric gave me the first lesson pretty easily, but each one after that only occurred after I begged and begged. And even from the first lesson, patient and sweet were not a part of his repertoire; he was irritable, rigid and almost militant.

I shake my head at the memory. Was I really so desperate for someone-  _anyone_ \- to care for me, that I thought that the way he treated me was acceptable? That it was what love looked like? I know I did love him, and on some level I think he loved me, too, but seeing Eric with Christina sure makes the problems in Eric's and my former relationship glaringly obvious.

On the other hand, seeing the problems Eric and I had in our relationship so much more clearly also makes me appreciate what I have with Tobias that much more. But I can feel myself holding back with him. I know that I am in love with him, and the words have almost slipped off my tongue many times now. I am afraid of repeating the mistakes I made with Eric, afraid of giving up too much of myself too quickly. But I know I won't be able to deny my true feelings much longer. Tobias Eaton lights up the darkness that has surrounded me for so long. They say all sunshine makes a desert; without pain, we could never appreciate joy. So maybe my relationship with Eric was worth it- maybe it makes what I have with Tobias now that much better.

After a minute or two, I come back to my senses and realize that if I stay here any longer, they'll see me watching them. Given the night I've had so far, an exchange with Eric and Christina is the  _last_  thing I want. I slowly and quietly turn around and exit back to the hall, being sure the door doesn't slam as it shuts so that I do not draw their attention.

* * *

"The dining hall is closed now. Did you eat before you came to the dojo?" Tobias asks, studying me with a furrowed brow as we stand in the dorm building's lobby. He senses that something is bothering me. He knows me too well, I couldn't play it off as if nothing was wrong even if I tried.

I shake my head no. When I left the gym upon seeing Eric and Christina, I went straight to the dojo. I still needed to blow off some steam, so Amar set up a punching bag for me in a room that was not in use at the time. I worked the bag until Four was done with his last class of the night. I intend to tell him all about seeing Caleb this afternoon- though I haven't decided whether to mention Eric and Christina. But I would rather wait until we aren't rushed and have some privacy.

"Well, I'm starving. Let's go up to my place and make some dinner," he suggests.

I smile. "That sounds perfect. Thank you, Tobias."

Soon we are in his apartment with a pot of water on the stove and a box of mac & cheese sitting on the counter, waiting to be cooked. Tobias is actually a pretty good cook, but most of the time we eat in the dining hall to save money. Sometimes he will go grocery shopping for a specific dish, but when it's last-minute like this, we're stuck with shelf-stable options that he can keep in the cupboard.

We listen to music and play a video game together while the noodles boil. Spencer seems to be out for the night, which is a relief to me- I can speak openly with Tobias about my brother this way. Tobias continues to give me the same concerned look as we eat our mac & cheese while I try to convince myself to just tell him what happened.

"So," Tobias says between bites of his unnaturally orange, cheesy noodles, "how was your visit to Northwestern?"

I set down my fork and slowly chew the bite of macaroni that is in my mouth. Finally, when I won't be flashing him a view of my dinner, I answer, "It was good… until I was about to leave. Tobias, I saw Caleb."

Tobias's eyes widen and he misses his mouth with the fork. Instead of making another attempt at eating his noodles, he sets his utensil back in his bowl and rests his forearms on the table. "Your brother?" I nod. "I thought he was in New York," he says.

"So did I." I tell Tobias about my brief conversation with my brother, ending with the encounter at the copy machine. "So now I have his number, assuming that he gave me the real one- though I don't know why he would bother to come after me only to give me a fake. But… I don't know if I want to call him or not," I explain. "Part of me would do almost anything to have a part of my family back. But the rest of me doesn't trust Caleb. I'm afraid I'd be setting myself up to be hurt again." I bite my lip. "What would you do, Tobias?"

Tobias is deep in thought for a minute as he eats a few more bites of his macaroni. "There's no point in seeing Caleb if you don't think you can forgive him eventually, Tris," he slowly says. "And only  _you_  know if you can, or even want to do that."

"I don't know," I sigh. "A part of me wants to. And my mother always said that we need to forgive for  _ourselves_ , not just for the person who wronged us. I am so  _angry_  at him. But… he's my family, Tobias. My  _only_  family."

Tobias takes my hand that is sitting on top of the table and rubs his thumb back and forth across my palm. "Are you considering forgiving him, letting him back into your life, because he's  _Caleb?_  Or is it because he is  _family._  The two aren't the same thing." My shoulders slump and I sigh. I don't know the answer to that right now, and Tobias doesn't push me for it. "Look, Tris, if it's only because he is the only family you have left… well, family isn't just about blood. Family is about the people you love, who love you in return."

Tears well in my eyes. I know what he is saying is true. It's the reason I held onto Eric for so long. But do I even have  _anyone_  who loves me? I have Tori, I think. I know I love Tobias… but I don't know if he loves me in return. He has never said so, but I've never declared my love for him out loud, either.

Tobias scoots his chair closer to mine and leans in closer to me, so close that he rests his forehead against mine. "Tris, I know I haven't ever said it to you. It's hard for me, you know? I haven't told anyone I love them since my mother, and she died nearly a decade ago. Saying those words… it's a big deal, and it's scary. But you need to know, Tris, that I love you. I'm more sure of that than anything else in my life."

My breath hitches in my throat.  _Tobias loves me. Tobias Eaton loves_ me.  _Plain old Beatrice Prior._  "I love you, too," spills from my lips before my brain can even catch up. My breath is coming out in quick little gasps until Tobias steals my breath with a passionate kiss. We don't pull back until we are both breathless.

"I don't have any family either, you know. None deserving of the title, anyway. But I have you, and you have me. Contact Caleb if you want to… but only if you really want to, Tris. There's no rush."

I nod slowly, tears streaming down my cheeks. What did I ever do to deserve someone as wonderful as Tobias? The unspoken promise is there: we don't need our shitty families, because we have each other. We love each other, and compared to that, blood is insignificant. His nose slides along mine, and we seal our promises with a slow, tender kiss.

 


	29. Under the Bridge

_**Tris** _   
_Early March_

I rush up the stairs to my American History class. It is on the third floor, so it's faster to just take the stairs than wait for the elevator. Tobias forgot to set his alarm last night, and somehow we both slept through mine, so I'm running late this morning. Class began five minutes ago.

I'm a little out of breath when I finally reach the classroom door- this building is farther from the dorms than any of my other classes, and I ran all the way here. I pause to finger-comb my hair- it was windy outside this morning and I didn't take the time search for the beanie I often wear outside in the mornings- before quietly opening the door to the classroom. I barely stifle my groan when I see that my usual seat is filled. The only empty seat… is directly next to Eric; Christina sits on his other side.

He locks eyes with me as I quietly make my way to the desk and sit down, my cheeks burning with embarrassment at the attention that comes with walking into a classroom mid-lecture. At this point, I'm wishing I had just skipped this class today. I tear my eyes from his gaze as I walk past him and slouch down in my seat.

Halfway through the class, the instructor's phone rings. "I'm sorry class," she says. "I have to take this. Just talk amongst yourselves until I return." She turns her attention back to her phone. "Yes, this is Melody's mother," she answers the call as she steps out of the classroom, shutting the door behind her.

The room quickly fills with the din of a dozen conversations. I pull out my phone and open Instagram, but I feel someone's eyes on me. I glance up and see that Christina is talking to someone on her phone, and Eric staring at me. "What?" I snap.

"Nothing, Tris," he mutters, looking down and frowning.

I roll my eyes and proceed to ignore him, but I can still feel his penetrating gaze off and on until the teacher enters the room again and resumes the lecture.

* * *

I have been watching the clock for the past half-hour as it inches closer and closer to the time that marks the end of my shift at the cafe. There's really no reason for me to be so anxious to get out of here since Tobias won't finish work for another hour. I can take advantage of that schedule gap to get some homework done, though.

Only five minutes left. I smash down the nearly overflowing trash in the can under the counter and tie off the top. Before taking it out back to the dumpster, I set the full bag on the floor and double-line the can.

It is on my way back in from the dumpster that I hear Tori. "Can I help you?" she says. I can't yet see her or the counter around the corner, but her voice is unusually cold and razor sharp.

I hear him before I see him. Eric. "Yeah, I'll take a caramel macchiato," he says. "And a hazelnut latte."

"I hope you're not here to see-" Tori starts, but Eric catches sight of me and interrupts her.

"Tris!" he calls. His eyes don't match the smile on his face. I know him well. He's nervous, and that makes me nervous. I'm also wondering who the drink is for; he's alone at the counter, and I don't see Christina anywhere.

I cautiously approach the counter. "Eric," I say guardedly.

Tori huffs as she cashes Eric out and hands him his change. She shoots me a warning look as she moves to the espresso machines to make his drinks. I sigh.

"Are you off work soon? You usually get off around now, right?" Eric asks, drumming his fingers on the counter and chewing on his lip ring. He does that when he's nervous. As much as I want to blow him off, I  _am_  off in about one minute, and I'm becoming curious about his reason for showing up here.

So I nod. "Yeah, actually, I'm about to clock out. Did you… need something?" I say, holding his gaze.

Eric clears his throat. "Yeah, I was hoping we could talk?" He's definitely nervous, but he also looks hopeful.

"Um, yeah, I guess… not for too long, though. I wanted to get some studying done before Four picks me up." Eric doesn't react to hearing me mention Four- not even the slightest flinch- and I would never admit it out loud, but it hurts a little.

I look to Tori. "Do you need me to do anything else before I clock out?" I ask. "I guess Eric and I are going to have a  _short_  conversation at that table over there." I motion toward a table far enough from the front counter that it would be difficult to hear our conversation, but close enough to feel like I have Tori close. This whole situation has me curious, but uncomfortable.

Tori purses her lips and shakes her head. "No, you can clock out. Eric, why don't you wait for Tris at the table. I'll bring your macchiato in a moment." Eric nods curtly and starts toward the table I pointed out a moment ago. "Any idea what this is about?" Tori asks, not taking her eyes off the drink she's making.

"No," I answer. I've been wondering the same thing. "As far as I am concerned, we have nothing to talk about. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious."

Tori nods. "Don't take any shit from him, Tris." She bustles past me with Eric's drinks and I quickly punch out for the day.

I get a bit of a heavy, uneasy feeling deep in my stomach as I approach the table, where Eric sits facing away from me. I sit in the seat across from him. Eric sets down his cup and rests his forearms on the table. "Thanks for this," he says, gesturing between us. "Here, I got you a drink. Hopefully I remembered right." Not quite- I'm not that fond of hazelnut- I usually get vanilla.

It's not worth mentioning, though. "Thanks," I say, avoiding his last comment. I take a small sip of the latte. "So… what are we doing here, Eric?"

He turns a ring in his eyebrow and clears his throat. "Well, uh… I wanted to talk because I never got to apologize to you. What I did was really shitty."

"Yep," I say flatly, rolling my eyes. "If you didn't want to be with me any more, you could have said so. I would have much preferred being dumped to walking in on you fucking that whore."

"Hey," he bites out. Then his face falls and he sighs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I told myself I wouldn't do that. Don't talk about my girlfriend like that, though."

I scowl. "Fine. Don't expect an apology from me, though. You didn't even tell me she was your ex! That would have maybe been some relevant information to share with Four and me, don't you think? I think we deserved to know that from the beginning."

Eric nods, cringing, and sips his coffee. "Yeah, Chris told me about seeing you at the restaurant that night. You're right. I should have told you, and I should have talked to you when I realized… how I still felt about Christina. I thought I still loved you, and still wanted you, and I knew I had to choose but I couldn't just let you go. But now that we've been apart I see it. We were no good for each other. I don't know… with Christina, she doesn't put up with my shit, you know? It pisses me off sometimes but it's good. It makes us a good match. With you I would just push and push you like I had to find that point where you'd rein me in, but you would just let me keep going. Then when you did finally push back, I'd already have wound myself up and it just made me angrier."

I stare at him. Eric rarely apologizes. He sounds like he means it. But I just remember all the times I have seen him with Chris, how different- how much kinder and more patient- he is with her than he ever was with me. I know he just said we weren't good for each other but I still feel like I just wasn't worth  _trying_  with. I feel like if I deserved his respect… I would have had it. But apparently that  _Christina_  deserves his respect and effort.

"Okay, I guess," I mumble. "Thanks for the apology." I stare into my latte between sips.

"Tris," Eric says, and I feel his index finger under my chin, tilting it upward to look at him. "I'm sorry for everything. I'm not trying to make things weird- Chris and I are happy together, really happy. We're good together. But you and me, I want us to be okay with each other. I'll always care about you, you know."

"Yeah, sure," I say as I roll my eyes.

Anger flashes in Eric's eyes, and it's so familiar, so much more what I'm used to seeing from him that it's almost comforting.

"Damnit, Tris," Eric snarls. "I'm trying to make this right! Can't you just-" He suddenly cuts himself off and scrubs his face with his hands. He looks so deflated when he pulls his hands away from his face again. "See, this is exactly what I mean, Tris," he groans, defeated. "I care about you, but we're just fucking terrible for each other."

He keeps saying he cares for me, and a part of me believes him. Another part of me thinks differently. He "cared about me" so much that he spent months fucking his ex-girlfriend behind my back, and then since then has treated her a hundred times better than he ever treated me. I know Eric is genuinely trying to make things right between us, but honestly, it's only pissing me off.

I won't ever give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much this still bothers me, though. I just nod, my face placid. "Okay. We're fine, then, Eric. I still don't want to be around Christina, and you and I aren't friends, but we're good." He smiles and I clear my throat. "Well, as much as I appreciate this little chat and the latte, I've got a ton of studying to do if I want to enjoy any of my evening with my boyfriend later."

Eric doesn't argue. I hope that eventually, I can be as unfazed by the sight or mention of Eric and Christina as he is when I mention Tobias. "Okay. Thanks for listening, Tris." Eric leaves his mug on the table, his remaining coffee growing cold at the bottom of the cup, and gets up. I pull a textbook out of my backpack and find the chapter I need to read tonight, making a point not to watch him leave.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tori glancing at me as she wipes down the espresso machine. After a few minutes, the door chimes as the last group of customers leaves the cafe. The last couple hours before closing are typically slow here, though we stay pretty busy in the mornings and afternoons.

Tori appears in front of me, sitting in the same chair Eric vacated a few minutes ago. I glance at my watch and see that Tobias should be off work in about twenty minutes.

"So?" Tori says, cocking one eyebrow. "What did he want?" I must have been right when I thought this table was far enough from the counter to prevent anyone overhearing Eric and my conversation.

"He wanted to apologize for being such a shitty boyfriend and for fucking that bitch behind my back," I inform her bitterly. I have learned that talking about my problems helps, and I think it's better that I don't talk to Tobias about this. "He talked about how awful we were for each other and how happy he is with Christina, who isn't a doormat like me."

Tori leans back, crossing her arms over her chest. "He's not wrong- you two weren't good for each other. But you seem upset about what he said."

I slowly let out a breath. I  _know_  I should just get over it. I'm trying to, but haven't been entirely successful so far.

"It's not really about  _him,_ " I explain. "I'm done with Eric. Completely. I don't miss him. It's just… I feel like I'm not enough. I've seen the man he is with Christina, and it's a hell of a lot better version of him than he ever gave me. Obviously he had that inside him, but I wasn't  _enough_  to be worth the effort. I wasn't  _enough_  for my brother to stick around or even stay in contact. I get that he was angry, but… I just… I feel unloveable."

Tori looks at me thoughtfully. "Well,  _I_ love you, believe it or not. And I don't know, maybe he hasn't said it… but Four loves you. It's clear to see."

"He has said that to me… and thank you for being such a rock in my life, Tori. I hope that you don't take this the wrong way, but deep down, I guess I feel like it's only a matter of time before you and Four each realize that I'm not deserving of your love, and you ditch me, too."

"Tris," she sighs. "He's  _one_ person. And yeah, I know, your brother's a shithead too, but you are giving them so much  _power_  over you. Have you considered that maybe they're the ones with the issues, not you?"

"Of course I have," I grit out. I'm getting frustrated with this conversation. I don't want to talk about it in the first place, but I'm trying not to bottle it all up so much. When I do that, it just eats away at my soul. "But that's my point. Eric isn't like that with  _her._ I must have been the problem, it's only logical. And Caleb is a whole other issue. He's back and gave me his number, but he didn't actually  _look_  for me, I just happened to run into him."

"Caleb just isn't as strong as you," Tori says sternly. "He was too much of a coward to offer you any sort of support and deal with his own shit at the same time. And as for Eric… look at it from the other direction. Are you a doormat with Four? Have you somehow inspired him to treat you like Eric did? No. So why is it automatically  _you_  that deserves the blame for everything?"

I cross my arms and stare her down, my face hard, but inside I let her words chip away at the walls I try to protect my heart with. It usually seems like I trapped the enemy within instead of keeping it out, though.

I steer the conversation back to my brother. "I'm not sure what to do about Caleb," I say. Tori narrows her eyes- I guess my redirection wasn't exactly subtle- but doesn't call me out on the subject change. "Four asked whether I'm considering seeing him because I feel obligated just because he's my brother, or is this really about wanting to give  _Caleb_  a chance. I'm not entirely sure of the answer to that."

Tori steeples her fingers and rests her chin on them as she studies me almost critically. "Or maybe you just want answers," she suggests slowly.

It's true, I do want to know what was going on in his head and his heart. "I do…" I admit, "but I feel like I'd be leading him on since I am not at all sure that I want to forgive him and let him be my brother again." I pause and look down at my hands, picking at my cuticles. "My mother would tell me to forgive him. Not just because it's Caleb, but no matter who it was. She told me once that forgiveness is not only something we do for other people. She said we need to do it for ourselves, to move on from the power that hurt has in our lives."

Tori nods slowly. "Your mother was a wise woman," she says.

"Yes," I say, tears pooling in my eyes. "She was."

After a brief silence, Tori speaks again. "Well, you want answers from your brother, right? Just don't mislead him. You could tell him you're willing to sit down for a cup of coffee and talk, because that's the truth. I think you deserve to hear his explanation. You can decide what you think about forgiveness later. There's no rule saying that you have to be ready to forgive and forget the moment you speak with him, Tris. Even if you never do forgive him, that's ok."

As always, Tori seems to know when she's given me enough to think about, and she silently gets up and returns to her work behind the counter. I try to study my American History textbook, as I have a big test next week, but instead, I contemplate what I want from my brother, and whether it's worth it. I glance up each time the door chimes, and when I am finally rewarded with the sight of Tobias coming through the door with his black t-shirt clinging to his body, I rake my eyes up and down his body and my heart beats a little faster. I force my thoughts about Caleb to the back of my mind. I am not going to let my asshole brother cast a dark cloud over a nice night with my incredibly sexy boyfriend.

* * *

Between the opposite hours Tobias and I have seemed to work most of this week and the rigorous demands of studying for the midterm exams we have just completed, it feels as though we have hardly seen one another all week. Now that my exams are complete, I feel a weight lifted, despite Caleb's reappearance and Eric's visit today hanging over me. Neither of them deserve to occupy my mind at this moment, and I won't let them.

As soon as we walk through his apartment door, Tobias scoops me up and practically runs to the bedroom. I giggle as he tosses me playfully onto the bed, quickly covering my body with his. I can feel his need mirroring my own in his desperate passionate kiss, and moments later it is confirmed by his hard length pressing against my thigh through his shorts and my jeans.

"Tris, baby," he mumbles in my ear as his lips trail a path of kisses down to my collarbone. "I need you." He is propped on his left elbow, and his right hand roams my body, settling on my breast. He pinches my nipple through my shirt and I quickly sit up. My fingers search for the hem of his shirt and when I find it, I pull it swiftly over his head, and he follows suit with my shirt.

I climb into his lap and straddle his hips. He leans against the headboard. I lean forward and plant a scorching kiss on his lips, running my tongue over his bottom lip. He opens his mouth to let me in. His hands grip my hips tightly as our tongues mate, then I pull away and trail a path down his jawline, neck, and continue down his chest, licking and nipping and sucking. I raise up onto my knees and move off of him so we can finish undressing one another, my jeans and panties and his shorts and boxer-briefs carelessly flung across the room.

Tobias quickly flips me to my back and parts my thighs with his hands, nestling himself between them. I feel the anticipation deep in my belly and my breaths become quicker and shallower as his hands glide from my thighs up to my breasts. He lowers his head and sucks a nipple into his mouth, causing me to gasp and throw my head back. His tongue circles the hardened bud, and he kneads the opposite breast with his hand. "Tobias," I moan. God, this feels amazing, but it just makes me want him-  _need_  him- more and more. " _Please,"_  I pant. I reach around and firmly grab his butt with both hands, pulling my favorite part of his body closer to where I need him most.

He enters me in one thrust; I groan in satisfaction at the delicious full feeling. "Oh, God, Tobias," I pant as he rocks into me at a slow and steady pace, resting his forehead against the crook of my neck. His thrusts gradually become harder and faster and my hips meet his, matching his rhythm, as the ache deep in my belly grows and spreads outward, bringing me higher and higher.

"Tris… fuck… you feel so damn good" he moans as I teeter at the edge of the summit. "I'm so close. Come with me, baby." His words push me over as I shatter, tightening around him. He lets out a guttural moan as he releases inside me and stills. Tobias collapses on top of me and after a moment rolls off me, pulling me against his chest as we both lay on our sides.

"I love you," I pant when my breathing slows enough to speak again.

"I love you, too," he murmurs. "I missed you."

"Me, too," I say, snuggling closer to him.

"How did your exam go today?" he asks. I had my midterm in Art History; the others were all earlier in the week.

"Really well," I answer. "Yours?"

He shrugs. "I felt good about all my tests, but I won't know for sure until I get them back next week.

I nod, then remember the assignment I got back today. "I got an A on that paper, by the way!"

"You did?" I can hear the smile in his voice. "The one… the one you went to Northwestern to research for?" I nod. His question reminds me of my encounter with Caleb, and my conversation with Tori today, and the atmosphere in the room immediately darkens. "Thinking about your brother?" He knows me so well.

"Yeah," I say. "I talked with Tori about him today," I add.

"She always seems to be helpful. Do you know what you want to do yet?" His fingers comb through my hair soothingly.

I'm silent for a moment as I mull over her words again. "She helped me figure out what I'm feeling, I think," I say slowly. "I'm still not sure that I want Caleb back in my life, but I do want answers from him. I want to know how he could abandon me like that. I can't imagine ever treating my own sibling that way in a time so coldly, no matter how angry I was."

"But…" Tobias prompts me. He can see that it's more complicated than that.

"But I feel like if I call and say I want to have lunch or whatever, it will seem like I am wanting to forgive him. I don't want to mislead him." He looks at me, waiting patiently. He can read me like a book. "And I'm afraid of what he might say. Right now there is this  _possibility_  that I'll have a family again, but once I hear what he has to say… I might have to give up on that hope, depending how I feel about whatever he says."

Tobias finally nods in understanding. "Just be honest with him about what you want from the meeting and you won't mislead him. As for your fear…" he strokes my cheek. "Don't forget what I said about family the last time we talked about this. You have family if you have people who love you, and you do. But it's still all up to you. Only call him if you want to and you're ready."

I stare into his eyes, and all I see is love, and support for whatever I decide. I'm still afraid to talk to Caleb, but I know that Tobias will be there to help me pick up the pieces if I fall apart. I take a deep breath. "I think I want to see him."

* * *

I am still calming down from my short phone call to Caleb when sit down at Four's desk in front of his open laptop. Caleb and I set up a time to meet next week. I couldn't bring myself to flat out tell my brother that I didn't know if I even wanted to try and forgive him, and I feel a little guilty about that. But I was careful not to imply otherwise, either.

I tap the touchpad on Tobias's laptop to bring it out of sleep mode. I want to just lose myself for a while in editing some photos. When the screen lights up, it's still logged on to Tobias's account, with the browser window open to a long email thread.

I am about to go to the start menu to switch users when my own name catches my eye in the text of the most recent email. I suck in a breath when I see that the email is from Marcus. I didn't even know that Tobias's father knew anything about me. Sure, I met him on visiting day, but I don't think anything would have been memorable about our interaction.

I glance around, then read the message.

_Tobias,  
I must be at an important business dinner on Saturday, March 18. I expect you to be here for the weekend. You will need a date for this function; Beatrice would be an excellent choice. I will see you and Beatrice here on Friday the 18th._

He wants  _me_  to come with Tobias to Milwaukee- to one of his business dinners? Has he ever made this demand before? And how does he even know my full name? I didn't think that Tobias would have even spoken with his father about me. I scroll up the email thread, watching for my name.

In early January, a vague reference on Marcus's part startles me- it appears that he already knew we were dating, even though it was brand new. I keep scrolling up.

On December first, I see Marcus make a vague reference to me, though I can't seem to pick up the tone of his comment. In the next message, Tobias responds flatly that he isn't interested in me and he thinks he can do better. Even without the whole picture, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, it stings. I chew on the inside of my cheek.

Throughout November, I am shocked to see Marcus tout my merits in two more emails. Then I find an email from shortly after I met Marcus at visiting day in October.  _What a shame that Beatrice is dating that pierced hellion. She is a lovely girl, one who can display the proper image. She is just the sort of girl you need, Tobias._  It went on to badmouth Christina- which I have mixed feelings about, not because of the things he said, but because I know the person writing them is a monster.

I sit there, stunned. Marcus was pushing Tobias in my direction for months before he finally declared his feelings for me. I hadn't even thought Tobias would discuss me with Marcus at all, but clearly, he has. Just minutes ago, when I spoke with Caleb, such a large part of my strength came from knowing that Tobias loved me and would be there for me.

But now I am questioning Tobias's motives for even asking me out in the first place. He certainly changed his mind about me abruptly. What was said in the phone conversations that are missing from this email thread? Did he ask me out because he cared for me? Or to appease his father?

Then, from behind me, Tobias's voice cuts through my thoughts, and I jump. "What are you doing, Tris?"


	30. Otherside

_**Tobias** _   
_Early March_

"What are you doing, Tris?" I don't know why I'm asking, I can see very well what she's doing. She's snooping through my email. I didn't even announce myself right away when I saw her. I was hoping she had just turned the computer on and was about to logout to edit her photos, that I just walked into the room at exactly the wrong moment. But no, she kept reading. She was even scrolling.

In a flash, Tris swivels the desk chair to face me. By the look on her face, I have clearly startled her. Not that it looks like she was making any effort to hide what she was doing. She stares at me with her lips parted in surprise- and probably guilt- but doesn't respond.

"Are you reading my emails?!" I accuse. Doesn't she trust me?! I don't even think that I have anything to hide from her, but still I feel my face and chest heating up and my pulse pounding in my ears.

I clench my fists at my sides as I watch Tris suddenly drop the shocked, guilty look and tilt her chin upwards defiantly. "Yes, yes I was." I am shocked at how hard and cold she sounds- as if  _I_ was the one in the wrong. "Only because as I went to logout, I saw my own name and was curious. You've been discussing me with Marcus for months."

"So?" I retort angrily. I actually hate discussing Tris with Marcus, but I don't think I am doing anything  _wrong._  "He's my father. You're my girlfriend. It's not strange for me to have mentioned you, is it?"

"You don't exactly have a great relationship with your father, so yeah, it was kind of surprising." Her voice is calm and even, though her eyes still burn with a fury that I do not understand. I turn away from her and open my dresser; I'm standing here in nothing but a towel. I pull out black boxer briefs and a pair of dark blue basketball shorts. I drop the towel and pull on the boxer briefs. "What was more surprising," she continues as I start to put on my shorts, "was finding out how he spent months pushing you in my direction before you finally admitted how you supposedly felt about me."

I freeze with one leg in my shorts and the other out, and slowly look up at her. "Supposedly?" My voice is nothing like the voice I usually use with Tris; it is venomous. I can feel my walls going up, creating a protective fortress around my heart. I quickly pull on my shorts and stand fully upright, taking a few steps closer to Tris and stopping a yard away from her. "Excuse me? Did you really just say that to me?!"

"Well, what would you think if you were in my shoes?!" she shouts at me. I can't believe she's acting like she's the one who was wronged here when I just caught her red-handed! And to imply that I am faking my feelings for her… she doesn't know what the hell she's talking about and she hasn't even bothered to  _ask_ me about it! "I know that you usually do pretty much whatever that bastard asks of you," she rants; I flinch. "Am I just another case of you being the dutiful, obedient son? Why are you  _with_  me, Tobias? Because I've never understood it!"

"Unbelievable," I mutter. "Those emails were none of your business, Tris. And thanks a lot for your confidence in me. Now I see what you really think of me." Does she know me at  _all_? How can she possibly think that I'm faking this! I fought my feelings for her for so long, and I love her so much. I hate that she can't see herself the way I see her.

But right now, that hurt is all being funneled into the anger I was already feeling about her snooping through my email. On the other hand, I want to set the record straight right now and show her that she should have trusted me.

"Get up," I demand. She glares, which I ignore, but she gets out of the chair. "Marcus doesn't like you, anyway." Can't believe I'm saying that to  _reassure_  my girlfriend. My family is fucked up. "He did, after he saw you with Eric, but things change. He had plenty to say about you at Thanksgiving. He doesn't like the 'influence' you have on me." I cringe remembering the beating I took that night.

Tris scoffs. "'Influence'? He did not say that."

"He did, too," I argue childishly as I scroll down the very long email thread and reread Marcus's latest email.  _Tobias, I must be at an important business dinner on Saturday, March 18. I expect you to be here for the weekend. You will need a date for this function; Beatrice would be an excellent choice. I will see you and Beatrice here on Friday the 18th._

I look at Tris for a moment before I begin typing. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her eyes are narrowed. I turn back to the laptop and quickly type a response to my father.

 _Father,_  
I have added the dinner on the 18th to my calendar and will let my employer know that I have a family obligation that day.  
I am surprised that you want me to bring Beatrice as my date. She would need to stay at your house, and I recall that you referred to her as a 'temptress' and a 'terrible influence.' Would you prefer I invite another friend- perhaps my friend's sister, who still lives in Milwaukee?  
Tobias

He wouldn't like Lynn much, but I really don't want Tris anywhere near Marcus. I haven't even told him that we're dating. That's why I haven't responded or decided what to do before now; it seems so out of nowhere that he would want me to bring her to Milwaukee with me, I don't know what he could be up to.

"Temptress?" Tris rolls her eyes and looks at me incredulously. "Please. No one talks like that!"

"Marcus does. Seriously, Tris, if anything his endorsement of you made me more hesitant to ask you out. I'm skeptical of anything that bastard endorses, and I don't want you anywhere near him."

As the words leave my mouth, I hear a chime sound and see that he has already responded. I open his reply immediately and as I read it, my jaw drops.

_Of course I want you to bring Beatrice, she is a lovely girl. I have no idea what you might be referring to; I never said an ill word about her. I hope you and she are still on friendly terms; Beatrice is such a refreshing change from that loud mouthed hussy you were seeing before._

I shake my head in disbelief. I'm afraid to look at Tris's face, but I look anyway. She looks crestfallen. Tris shakes her head as she wipes all trace of emotion from her face.

I can't believe Marcus is lying about this shit! How does he even know?! It's like he has a Spidey Sense for exactly when and how to fuck things up for me!

And if Tris hadn't snooped through my email, none of this would be an issue to begin with, either!

I feel my blood pressure rise, but fight to stay calm, at least on the outside. I can't mess things up with her again, even if I think she was wrong to read those emails, no matter what she saw, I can't turn into  _Four_  when she fell for Tobias. "I really wish you hadn't read my email, Tris," I say calmly, though I feel anything but calm inside. "He's lying. I don't know why, but he is lying! He hated you last time your name came up, and I absolutely did  _not_  date you for my father's approval."

Tris takes a deep breath and looks me in the eye. "Tobias," she says slowly, "I think we need to talk about this later, when we aren't so upset with each other. I don't know what to think. I need some time. I'm going to go now."

God, this is frustrating! I want to tell her  _no,_  stay here and talk about this  _now._  And at the same time I just want to walk out on her- for putting her nose where it doesn't belong, for not trusting me, for thinking even for a moment that my feelings for her could be fake. It's ludicrous.

Maybe it's just that I want to be the one walking away instead of her, which makes no sense- why does it matter which of us leaves? Besides, it's  _my_  apartment.

I huff and run my fingers through my hair as she packs up her backpack. She makes a point of not looking directly at me, and I sigh. I just need to grit my teeth and keep calm for another minute while she goes, because I know she's right- the best thing is to cool down and talk about it later. If we try to now, one or both of us is going to say something we don't really mean. "Okay, Tris. You're right, we should get a little space and talk about this later. Tomorrow?"

"Yes," she says, standing up and swinging her backpack over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow." She hesitates for a moment, then looks at me and says, "I work 'til seven o'clock. Pick me up? Then we can come back and talk?"

"Yeah, I'll be there about seven-fifteen," I agree. We stand for a moment in awkward silence.

"Okay, I'm gonna go, then," Tris says awkwardly. She hesitates for a moment then finally looks at me through watery eyes. "I love you, Tobias," she says.

Relief floods through me at her words. Knowing that even though we're angry, even though she just spent the past fifteen minutes questioning the very basis of our relationship, she still loves me. I know I could never stop loving her.

"I love you too, Tris," I say softly. I want to reach out for her, but I stop myself. Tris turns and walks out of my room. I watch her make her way through the living room and out the front door. She doesn't look back.

* * *

Amar has been eyeing me all night. At first I was just annoyed, but eventually it started to make me anxious, too. When the last student leaves, he comes back into the classroom. He just leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and watches me carry training equipment to the storage closet.

"You know, we could get out of here faster if I wasn't doing this on my own," I say. I don't so much care if he helps or not, as long as he stops staring at me with that serious expression on his face.

Instead of helping, he stays where he is and says, "So, what happened with you and Tris?"

I fold a mat. "What makes you think something happened between me and Tris?" I respond as I pick up the mat and bring it to the closet.

"You're ready to climb up the walls and you haven't cracked a smile all day. The only times you ever acted like this before was when you two weren't getting along."

I shake my head. "What are you, my shrink? Do you analyze everyone like this?"

He shrugs. "Everyone I care about. Just tell me already. I want to know how long I'll be treated to  _this_  version of Four."

I roll my eyes, but I stop and look at him for a moment. Amar has always been a good listener, when he manages to get me to talk. I really do need to be ready to talk to Tris tomorrow.

"We had a fight," I say, and he looks surprised that he got me to talk so easily. "I took a shower this afternoon and when I got back to my room, Tris was reading my email."

"Why would she do that?"

"She says she got on the computer to edit some photos and saw her name on an email I had open. So she read it, she was curious. But she didn't stop there, she scrolled all the way up the email thread to October and read a bunch. It was my emails with my father." I spit the word like it tastes sour. "He met her on Visiting Day and thought she was just wonderful of course- he saw how compliant she was with Eric. He changed his mind several months ago and had plenty of bad things to say about her, but none of that is in the emails, and she thinks I'm only with her to please that bastard." I grimace. "If anything, him pushing me in her direction only made me take longer to ask her out."

"Yeah, I wouldn't say that to her," Amar chuckles, and I run my hands through my hair.

"My dad- he's not very nice," I say carefully. "I don't want him anywhere near Tris. But he was asking for me to bring her up to Milwaukee for some bullshit business dinner. I just- I don't know. She doesn't believe me, I emailed him to prove myself and he denied all the nasty things he said before. And on top of it all, I'm still pissed that she invaded my privacy that way and that she doesn't trust me… and even  _more_  pissed that this has all become about something else. Something that she's completely wrong about, by the way."

Amar doesn't move from his spot against the wall. "So how did you leave things?"

"We're going to talk tomorrow night." I go back and forth between feeling like waiting to work it out is the best thing to do, and being desperate to hash it out right now. I hate feeling like this. It reminds me of that awful month after we caught Eric and Christina.

"Good. You're growing up, learning from your mistakes. Walking away before you make things worse." I groan. Now I really have to wait to talk to her.

"Look, Four," Amar says. "Yeah, she was wrong. But think about this before you get too hung up on her not trusting you. It sounds like she came across the email innocently. She didn't turn on your computer with the intention of looking at your emails. I suggest putting yourself in her shoes, imagine you see your name in her emails to someone. A  _lot_  of people would be too curious to just walk away."

I try to think of a comparable situation, how would I react? I'm sure I would be curious the moment I saw my own name. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to stop myself from reading what's said about me on screen, but scrolling through what wasn't in plain view, I don't think I'd do that to her. Still, Amar makes good points. "Yeah, maybe," I mumble.

"You guys will work it out. Just listen to her, and don't let one issue get in the way of solving the other." Amar locks the storage closet and we head out of the training room.

I follow him out into the lobby, turning out the lights on my way out the door. I grab my bag and walk past Amar at the front desk. Amar smiles and raises his hand in a wave, and I pause with my hand on the door. He helped me a lot tonight; I feel better. Better than I did, anyway. "Thanks for everything, Amar," I say. He nods as I push open the door and head to my truck.

* * *

_**Tris** _

I check my watch again before attempting to return my attention to my book. I have been so distracted since my argument with Tobias yesterday afternoon, I knew my only chance at distraction was something familiar, so on my way out of my dorm room to walk to work I grabbed a worn copy of my favorite book: Pride and Prejudice. Most of the time I prefer contemporary novels, but this was my mother's favorite. I have read it many times wanting to feel close to her, and it has grown on me more than I ever expected it to.

When I sat down after clocking out five minutes early, I flipped through it until I was about at the middle of the book. Lizzy is reading Mr. Darcy's letter, revealing what a scoundrel Mr. Wickham is, all his lies and manipulations. My mind wanders back to the subject that I've been going round and round for the past twenty-eight hours: Tobias and his father. I start to formulate what I will say to him tonight, but I am cut off by the sound of the door chime.

I look up to see Tobias walking into the cafe. He spots me and comes toward me, his hands shoved in his pockets. His expression is guarded, betraying no hint of whatever emotions he might be feeling. I guess I should have expected as much. I shove my book into my backpack and zip it up, then sling the strap over my shoulder and meet him by the door.

Tobias shifts uncomfortably. "Ready?" I answer with only a nod and follow him out to his truck. The snow has all melted now, but the sky is gray and the streets are wet from rain. The atmosphere feels gloomy. It matches my mood.

The drive back to the dorm is silent, as is the walk through the lobby and the elevator ride. Tobias runs his hands through his hair and huffs as we walk down the hall to his apartment. "Spence?" he calls out as we walk in. Only silence answers him. Tobias nods and gestures with his hand for me to follow him. Once we are in the bedroom with the door shut behind us, he sits down in his desk chair and swivels to face the bed. I sit on the bed on its edge, so that my feet touch the floor, and rub my sweaty palms on my jeans.

"Tris, I'm not dating you because Marcus wanted to me. I wish you could believe that," Tobias starts. "I never cared what he thought of Chris- if anything it was a bonus that he hated her- and I don't care what he thinks of you, either."

I look up, deep into his gorgeous dark blue eyes. I sigh. "I'm sorry about yesterday. But I still feel like it doesn't all make sense."

"What doesn't?" He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

I sigh, trying to find the words. I know from everything that Tobias has told me, Marcus puts up quite the deceptive facade. Tobias is convinced that no one would ever believe him if he revealed what his father is really like. But somehow I still struggle to believe that Tobias doesn't have ulterior motives in being with me. And deep down… everything Tobias said about his father's initial impression of me… well, he wasn't wrong. I don't know what could have made Marcus's opinion change so drastically, and now he's denying it. What am I to think of all that?

"I don't understand why he would have changed his opinion of me in the first place. It's not like he saw me again and I did something to offend him. And then why lie about it?"

Tobias sighs. "Who knows why he does anything, Tris?" He's holding something back, I know it. So I just wait patiently, giving him a pointed look. "Fine," he groans. "Thanksgiving was the first time I saw him again after I left without permission when you were sick. He decided he didn't like your 'influence' on me, since I disobeyed him to run off and help you."

I feel sick. "I  _told_  you I didn't want to get you in trouble, not to come if it was going to cause a problem, Tobias!" Tears spring to my eyes imagining how Marcus might have reacted. "Did he hurt you?" I whisper.

Tobias rolls the chair closer and puts his hand on top of mine. "It doesn't matter, Tris. It's over now, and everything is better because I have you. But I need you to trust me. As for his claim that he never said that- I don't know what his game is. I truly don't." I hate that he isn't answering my question about Thanksgiving. I hate that he might have been hurt because of  _me._  I am not worth that.

I open my mouth to push him to answer me, but I stop myself. Maybe I don't need to know everything. Tobias and I have been dating for close to three months now, and he's been amazing. He has never given me a reason to distrust him.

Why is this so hard for me?

I almost feel like I am lying to myself even asking that question; I know why. It has everything to do with my own insecurity, and everything Eric, and Caleb too, have done to feed it. I need to stop letting them bring me down. I just wish it was as simple as recognizing it and magically becoming free of those thoughts and feelings. But it's not.

"Why me? I don't deserve you, Tobias. Why are you with me?" I ask meekly.

Tobias sighs. "Because you're smart, strong, kind, brave, beautiful… I hate that you don't see that."

I still don't see it, but Tobias means what he's saying. I can feel it. And I decide then and there, I am going to try to believe him. I can't let my insecurities destroy what we have.

"I'm sorry, Tobias," I say. "I trust you. Or at least, I am trying to. Not to be cliche, but… it's not you, it's me." Tobias laughs and I smile along with him. "And I am sorry I didn't respect your privacy. If you could try not to tempt my curiosity in the future, though, that would be helpful."

"I think I can let it go," Tobias says with a small smile. "But I need to ask you something." I nod for him to continue, nerves picking up in my stomach. "Would you come with me to that dinner? I really don't like the idea of you being with Marcus but…"

"I'll go," I interrupt. I silently pray that my presence will save Tobias from any violent encounters with his dad. "I don't want you to face him alone, I'll be there." I tug on Tobias's hand and he moves from the chair to sit next to me on the bed and pulls me into his arms.

"Thank you," he whispers into my hair. I nod.

"Tobias?" I say. He hums in acknowledgement. "Thank you. For giving me time."

"You're welcome. You were right- we both needed to calm down." Tobias runs his fingers lightly up and down my back. "So… are we good?" he asks hopefully, tilting my chin to look up at him and leaning in.

I lean in, too, to meet him. When our lips are almost touching and I can feel his breath on my chin, I whisper, "Really good. I love you." Then I close the distance and kiss him, not waiting for a response. I don't need to hear him say it back. I already know.

Tobias deepens the kiss immediately, running his tongue over my lower lip. All the tension and anxiety of the last day turns quickly to need. Our tongues swirl together as he lowers me slowly onto the bed. My hands tangle in his hair as he covers my body with his, his hands sliding down my sides. We break apart to catch our breath and Tobias kisses along my jawline. His hands slide slowly back up the smooth skin of my stomach, raising my shirt along with them. I lift myself off the bed to allow him to pull my shirt over my head and he tosses it somewhere on the floor. Still sitting up, I pull his shirt over his head too and toss it aside. I look him up and down, sitting before me like my very own greek god, I run my hands over the defined lines and divots of his stomach and chest. God, he's sexy… so fucking hot.

"Like what you see?" he teases. I hum in approval as I lean in and kiss his neck. My fingers trail back down his hard body to unbutton his jeans; he stands and I groan in frustration, but he's only stepping out of his jeans. I slide down his boxer briefs and his impressive erection springs out. "Not fair, you're still half dressed," he pouts.

"We should do something about that," I say, my cheeks heating up a little at how breathy I sound. Tobias makes quick work of stripping my jeans off me, and as he lowers me back onto the bed, kissing that sensitive spot behind my ear, he expertly unhooks my bra and tosses it aside. His hands skim my skin as he drags them down to my lace panties. He pauses, absently rubbing his thumbs over the light fabric as he looks me slowly up and down, his pupils blown out with lust.

He slides my panties down my legs and lets them fall before leaning over me again, ghosting his lips over my neck.

"Beautiful," he whispers against my skin.

And I believe him.

I cover his mouth with mine and I reach down and grasp his hard shaft. I begin to pump it and shiver as Tobias's long fingers trail down my body until he is cupping my core. He runs his fingers up and down my slit and kisses along my jawline then nips my earlobe. I moan as he plunges one finger into my opening. "Fuck, you're always so wet for me," he murmurs as he adds a second finger. I involuntarily buck my hips toward him and I feel him smirk against my jaw.

"Please, Tobias," I plead. I need him. I need him right now. He puts his hand over mine and I drop his hard cock, allowing him to position himself at my entrance.

I grip the sheets and moan at the delicious fullness when he enters me in one thrust. He doesn't waste any more time, thank God, because I don't think I could wait any longer. Our breaths come faster and faster as he pumps harder and faster and heat spreads out from my core.

We kiss deeply, so hard our teeth clash together. I'm dizzy with pleasure. Tobias suddenly sits up farther, pulls out, and flips me over on my hands and knees . He quickly sheaths himself inside of me once again. As his hips begin to snap toward me hard and fast, he drapes himself over me and wraps an arm around my chest, completely encircling me, and he kisses my neck. "I love you, Tris," he pants, sliding his hand down my body, stopping to massage one of my breasts on its way to my sensitive bundle of nerves.

The tightening low in my belly intensifies and I reach behind me around his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. He pinches my clit and I scream into his mouth as I shatter around him. He loses rhythm as my orgasm triggers his own and he spills into me. My release leaves me spent and every muscle in me relaxes like a rag doll, Tobias collapsing on top of me.

I savor his full weight on me for a moment before he rolls to his side to keep from crushing me. He pulls me to him and wraps both arms around me. He buries his face in my neck and the only sound is our ragged breaths mixing together.

Once we have both caught our breath, I feel Tobias smile against my neck. "You know, fighting every now and then might not be all bad."

I laugh. "Yeah, make-up sex almost makes it worth it."

I turn in his arms, and he rolls to his back. I pull the blanket up over us and snuggle into his chest, exhausted from our emotional conversation and from reconnecting with him afterward.

"Please stay tonight," he mumbles sleepily.

I hum. "Nowhere else I'd rather be," I sigh sleepily as I begin to drift off.

* * *

The week flew by at first, and I stayed at Tobias's nearly every night. Somehow, I feel even closer to him now. It's funny how something that feels so awful- conflict with someone you love- can leave you feeling on top of the world in the end.

Anxiety has been creeping in for both of us this week, though. In a few days, Tobias and I will be driving up to Milwaukee and spending the weekend at Marcus's. I'm a little nervous about that, of course not as nervous as Tobias is, though. I know it's hard for him to open up about his feelings, but he's trying to, and that's enough.

The event that I have been anticipating, though, is now here.

Caleb suggested a little diner about halfway between his school campus and mine. It didn't sound familiar, but now that I am here, I recognize it as a place I once ate at with Eric when we were in high school. Eric is the last thing I need on my mind right now, but I am not about to ask for a change of location and make my brother think he's doing me any favors.

A bell chimes when I open the door. It's a little 1950s-style place with a checkered floor, a soda-fountain style counter, formica-topped tables are scattered throughout, and booths lining the walls. I scan the dining room and find Caleb already here. He folds a piece of paper deliberately. Origami. He's nervous. That was a hobby Mom came up with for him when we were young because he couldn't keep still when he was nervous and it sometimes became a bit distracting for his classmates. I remember the fifty-two paper cranes that used to hang from my ceiling and it brings a small smile to my lips. Caleb made most of them and gave them to me; a few sloppy ones were my own, after he taught me how.

It's been about two years since I last folded a paper crane. I tried a few times after Mom and Dad died, as it always helped Caleb to fold crazy things out of paper when he was anxious. But then it always just made me think of my brother and his betrayal, so I stopped.

I weave through the tables to the booth Caleb occupies and slide in across from him. He jumps, and I chuckle. "I didn't mean to scare you, Caleb," I say.

"You didn't scare me… just startled me."

"Potato, po-tah-to," I say with a dismissive wave.

Caleb clears his throat- another nervous tic. "Uh, I went ahead and ordered for you. Your favorite: chicken breast with mashed potatoes and steamed veggies."

I purse my lips. "What's with guys ordering for me?" I mumble under my breath, remembering my last conversation with Eric. Caleb  _does_  correctly remember what my favorite meal once was… but it makes me think of Mom, and no one makes it like she did anyway, so I avoid it now, even in the school dining hall. I think for a minute about just eating it anyway, then I shake my head. I don't want that, and I'm not going to eat it just so that  _Caleb_ , of all people, feels comfortable. "I'll be right back," I tell him.

I approach the counter and wave a waitress over. "Excuse me," I say. She nods. "My brother ordered chicken and potatoes for me, but I don't want that. Could you please put it in a to go box so I can take it home for later? For here, I'd like a burger, fries, and a Coke, please." I'm sure they've already started cooking it, so I will just bring it back for Tobias.

"Sure thing, honey," the waitress says as she jots my new order on her notepad and passes it back to the grill. I return to my seat in the booth.

I look at my brother. He's still fiddling with his paper. He looks up and his eyes narrow; he leans forward and pushes my hair aside. What is he doing? I lean away from him, but he already found what he was looking for.

"Is that a bruise?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.

Oh. Tobias must have left a mark earlier. I roll my eyes. "It's nothing. I'm fine." He opens his mouth to speak again and I cut him off before he can speak. "It's not your business, Caleb," I say firmly. "Now, I believe that we're here so you can explain why you abandoned your orphaned sixteen-year-old sister and cut all contact." I lean back and cross my arms.

Caleb gulps. "You're right, Beatrice. I'm sorry." He unfolds his origami. "We both know there is no excuse for what I did," he says. I think I detect a slight tremble to his voice. "Beatrice-"

"It's Tris now," I interrupt, then wait for him to continue his 'explanation.'

"Tris. I'm sorry. I- like I said, there is no excuse. But you deserve an explanation."

I take a deep breath and let it out and he just sits there and begins to refold it into some sort of star. "Go on," I finally prompt him.

Caleb clears his throat. Again. "I… I had a fight with Dad when he called a couple of days before they died. He wanted me to come home for Thanksgiving, and I didn't want to. I was overwhelmed with my classes already and I had just started dating this girl and…" he trails off. "We hadn't spoken again yet. Then I got that call, that they were dead… all I could think was that they had died and our last conversation... "

Tears spring to my eyes. I've always been thankful that my last interaction with my parents was a simple "goodnight" and "I love you," though I have always hated that I was hiding my plans to sneak out at the time. And, of course, the fact that I was the one who didn't bother to lock the goddamn door.

The waitress brings the food and sets it in front of us. Caleb furrows his eyebrows when he sees my to go box and the burger on my plate, but he has the good sense not to nag me about it. I take a bite of my cheeseburger and he picks at his chicken strips.

"I came back here," he says, tears now swimming in his eyes as well, "and I just… I needed someone to blame. I was just drowning in guilt and I needed to pin it on someone else. And the most convenient scapegoat, B-  _Tris_ … was you. It gave me the excuse I needed not to take on the responsibility I wasn't ready for, and to leave everything behind, to just try to forget about all of it. Pretend none of it ever happened, that none of you ever existed. I was afraid, Beatrice. I'm just a coward, that's all there is to it."

He's right. He is a coward. Something inside me nags at me, reminding me that I know plenty about being a coward. But that people change. I'm not being a coward today, am I? I'm here speaking to my brother, even though the very thought scared the shit out of me.

But then I remember that Caleb had been back for six months before I stumbled upon him, and he hadn't even bothered to see if I was okay.

"And when you finally came back to Chicago?" I ask coldly, all the bitterness seeping its way into my voice.

Caleb yet again unfolds his paper and begins a new creation. I roll my eyes when he's not looking.

He sighs. "I don't know, Bea. I was ashamed, and I was terrified of what you'd say to me. That is, if I even found you."

" _My_  phone number and email address haven't changed, Caleb. You didn't try."

He nods, looking defeated. "You're right, I didn't. I was a coward back then, and I'm a coward now. But when I saw you there in the library, I needed you to know… I love you, and none of this was your fault. And I miss you." He clears his throat yet again as he finishes a paper crane. "I also remembered something Dad said in one of his sermons once. 'Let the guilt remind us to do better next time.' I'm hoping this can be my next time, Beatrice."

I stare at him for a long time, not sure how to feel or what to do.

"Do you think you can forgive me?" Caleb asks.

I remember my mother's words:  _Forgiveness is not only something we do for other people. It is something we do for ourselves, to move on._

I know then that I can forgive my brother and I must. I don't know if I want him to be a part of my life, and I don't have to decide that right now. But for now… I can begin to forgive. I can try. I'm not sure I know how, but I can try.

If I forgive him, I wonder, will I be able to think of what happened without that hatred I feel in my gut?

Or maybe forgiveness is just the continual pushing aside of bitter memories, until time dulls the hurt and the anger, and the wrong is forgotten. Maybe if I push this aside for long enough, I can also forget.

"I think I can," I say. I pause. "Or at least I desperately want to, and I think that might be the same thing."

I don't know if I will see my brother again. But my heart feels just a little lighter.


	31. Fight Like a Brave

_**Tobias  
** _ _Mid-March_

My muscles ache and I am full of pent-up, nervous energy when we stop in Milwaukee at a Starbucks twenty minutes from Marcus's house. It is the same coffee shop I have stopped at every time I've come to Milwaukee these past seven months, always needing to delay coming "home" as long as I can. This time is different; this time Tris is with me.

"Could you grab a table? I'll get the drinks," I suggest as I scan the crowded restaurant. Tris kisses me lightly before walking away to look for an empty table in the crowded cafe.

Having Tris with me in Milwaukee is a double-edged sword. On one hand, her presence gives me strength- strength I need to make it through this visit. And I don't want her to see me so weak, like I have been in the past with Marcus. On the other hand, I have no idea what Marcus is up to; his request that I bring Tris was strange, and his response when I brought up his previous statements about her… why would he deny it? It was like he knew that she was reading over my shoulder.

"Grande vanilla latte," I tell the cashier, ordering for Tris first, "and a grande house coffee with room for cream." I peer into the bakery case. "And an apple fritter," I add. They're one of Tris's favorites.

I catch myself pacing as I wait for our order. Soon my name is shouted, and I pick up our drinks and pastry from the counter and bring them to the small table Tris is sitting at, playing with her phone. She looks up and smiles as I sit down.

"Mmm," she says, eyeing the apple fritter, "that looks good." She sips her latte and smiles. "You remembered my favorites."

"Of course I did," I say, reaching out and taking her hand that rests on the table. Just that simple touch calms my nerves significantly. I'm still anxious, though, when I remember that for two nights and a day, Tris will be in the same house with Marcus. As far as I know, he's never hurt anyone other than me and my mother, but he is manipulative and always seems to know just what buttons to push to cause the most pain. I can't shake the feeling that he's up to something. And since it's Marcus, whatever that  _something_  is cannot be good.

"Tris," I say seriously, "be careful this weekend. Marcus is… he's dangerous. Promise me you'll be careful not to push his buttons at all, in any way."

Tris frowns, but nods. "I'll be careful, Tobias. But just know that I won't stand by and allow him to hurt you." My stomach churns. I have a bad feeling about this visit. I shouldn't have brought her with me.

"Just… please think before you act, okay?" I know I can't control her, and I don't want to. But she has definitely grown from that meek girl I used to see with Eric… the meek girl Marcus was so enamored with. I remember our fight last week and how maturely she handled it when things started to become heated- how maturely she forced  _me_  to handle things as well. Maybe everything will go smoothly. Maybe it will all be alright. I can only hope.

* * *

As usual, I was expected to cook dinner tonight. I am pretty sure that Marcus has only cooked a handful of meals for me since my mother died nine years ago. When I say he "cooked" for me, I mean that he microwaved some canned chicken-noodle soup when I had pneumonia in the sixth grade. I'm surprised he hasn't lost weight, honestly, because I've never seen him prepare his own food… ever. Does he just get take-out for every meal, I wonder, or has he learned to prepare his own food now that I have been away for half a year?

I declined Tris's offer to help cook, but she insisted, of course. When we decided upon chicken and dumplings- not the chicken breasts and potatoes I often make for Marcus, as I know they remind her of her mother- we had to go out to buy chicken broth, and it was a nice reprieve from the tension that is always present when I am in the house where I spent my childhood. It's not home. It hasn't been home since Mom died.

In the end, Tris did most of the cooking while I stuck with the prep work: chopping vegetables, preparing the salad. She has made this dish for me twice before- once just because, and again on my birthday last month, at my request- and while I know my way around the kitchen, I also know I could never do it justice, compared to Tris.

Marcus sits in his usual position at the head of the dining room table, and I am in my usual seat, to his right. Tris sits across from me. I take my first bite of stew and dumplings and hum in approval. "Thank you for making this, Tris," I say. "It's delicious."

"Thank you," Tris says, blushing. "I'm glad you like it."

"Was this one of your mother's recipes?" he asks. He's got on that kind, gentle mask he shows the rest of the world, but I see the glint in his eyes.

My heart beats faster. Tris bites the inside of her cheek. "Y-yes…"

"I understand that your parents passed away a few years ago," he continues with false sympathy.

Tris takes a deep breath and sits up straighter. "Yes, they did. But I would prefer not to talk about it."

"Of course, of course, Beatrice. I didn't mean to reopen old wounds."  _Yes you did,_  I think, gritting my teeth and clenching my fists. Tris glares down at her stew.

Tris is strong, stronger than she thinks, and she doesn't need me to protect her. Still, protecting Tris is certainly my impulse. Since meeting with her brother a few days ago, Tris has been quieter than usual, and I'm not entirely sure what's running through her head. It's not that she's shutting me out- she talks to me about at least some of what she's thinking, and a lot of it is about what her parents would want her to do in regards to Caleb, and whether their possible opinions are even entirely relevant. I think she just has a lot to process and needs to sort her thoughts out before she can put words to them.

I frown at Tris's lowered head and the way she picks at her food, and it occurs to me… I have never told Marcus any of those things about Tris. Now, of course, she probably thinks I did, and may even be doubting my honesty last week when she saw those emails. Damn it! I hate this bastard.

Beyond my concerns about whether Tris will trust me, my mind races as I wonder just how Marcus got that information… and the bigger question,  _why_?

I can't tell whether Marcus is going to drop the topic for now, or not. I'm sure we won't make it through the weekend without him bringing it up again, but I can redirect the topic of conversation for now. I clear my throat. "How has business been, Dad?"

Marcus leans back in his chair and narrows his eyes at me. "Why the sudden interest in my business, Tobias?"

I shrug. "Just making conversation." Marcus and I have never been much for conversation at the dinner table, on the occasion we even really eat together. Tris finally looks up from her plate through her eyelashes. Her eyes are stormy with sadness and uncertainty. I try to look as innocent as possible as I shrug my shoulders just a little and shake my head, trying to communicate to her that I have no idea how Marcus knows about her parents.

"Business isn't a children's topic. You wouldn't understand if I told you," Marcus says with an edge in his voice. "Beatrice, though, has had to grow up quickly, it seems. You've been on your own for a few years now, haven't you, Beatrice?"

"Yes," she says through gritted teeth. "But I believe that is my concern, and I don't wish to talk any more about my family situation." She meets his eyes, a forced smile on her lips. "Thank you for understanding," she adds in an attempt to close the topic. "Besides, Tobias is very bright. It seems he has had to grow up rather fast, too, hasn't he, Mr. Eaton?"

Marcus's eyes flick to me, he's angry. I dig my fingernails into my palms and shoot a look to Tris.  _You promised not to provoke him, Tris,_  I try to warn her silently. She bites her lip and looks down, her stew seeming to have become very interesting to her once again. I hold my breath.

"Children need structure," Marcus glares. "I am sure it would be quite damaging to be without that during one's teenage years. Adolescents need guidance and discipline if they are to become successful, respectable adults. Adults that make their parents proud."

Tris's eyes are glassy, and I'm seeing red. How dare he speak to her like that? That bastard knows exactly which buttons to push. To imply that Tris's parents would be ashamed of the person she has become is downright cruel. I see his tactics so clearly now. I still can't be sure that all that he has said about me for all these years is untrue, but I  _know_  he's wrong about Tris, and I think he knows it, too. He's trying to push her down. He knows I care for her, that she's permanent in my life, even if he doesn't know I've admitted that I love her, and he wants to turn her into the "right" kind of girl. A weak, timid little woman that is under his thumb. One who will make me weaker, instead of stronger.

Tris will never be that girl, I won't allow him to push her down. She has been through enough, and she is everything I want and need, just as she is.

I sit up straight, my forearms resting on the table. "I'm quite sure that Tris's parents would be more than proud if they could see her now. Tris is incredible. She has spent two-and-a-half years supporting herself entirely, all while finishing her last two years of high school and completing her first term of college with straight A's. She is incredibly talented, she is kind and brave, and smart and selfless, and she makes the people around her stronger, too. And I won't allow anyone to tell her otherwise."

Marcus stares at me, lips parted in shock, eyes smoldering with rage. Tris is looking at me with tears in her eyes- a mixture of gratitude and fear. The only sound is the clinking of forks against the glass bowls as we continue eating in silence

All I can think is,  _What did I just do?_

* * *

When I was a kid, I occasionally got to sleep over at Zeke and Uriah's house. It's smaller than mine, and they had to share a rather messy room, but I was always envious. Their mom would scold them for the mess sometimes, but you could always hear the love in in her voice. They had fun things like action figures, puzzles and video games, things they had received from grandparents and aunts and cousins for birthdays and Christmases.

I'm still not sure why, but the thing I loved the most was the glow-in-the-dark stars on their ceiling. I would lie awake, listening to them throw insults at each other in the dark, and stare at the faint yellow-green glow above me. I always wished I could have some in my own room. It was what I wanted most for my birthday several years in a row, but Marcus never got them for me.

When I was about twelve, I bought them with money I had earned mowing lawns. Marcus didn't stop me from putting them up, but I quickly realized just how useless they were to me. I only actually got to seem them if I laid on my back. By that point in my childhood, I almost always had to sleep on my stomach because Marcus's punishments had become so frequent.

I lie on my back, staring at the stars on the ceiling. It seems like seeing those stars would be a good thing- a symbol of a good day, a rare day with my father where I didn't fuck up enough to need a "lesson."

But it also reminds me of what is inevitably coming for me in the near future. I have learned from experience that the longer the reprieve, the worse the next belting will be.

I lift my head instinctively (evidently I've already lost some of my habit of caution, it would be safest to pretend to be asleep) when I hear the slight creak of my door slowly opening. I'm relieved to see that it is Tris, and not Marcus. He  _should_  be asleep by now, but of course he was my first thought when I heard the door open. Tris pauses in the doorway like she is unsure whether she should enter.

"C'mere," I mumble while I pull back the covers and scoot over to one side of my twin bed. I can hear the light tread of her feet on the gray carpet and a moment later I'm pulling her close to me as she pulls the covers up with one hand.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" she asks.

"No, I was awake," I assure her as I twirl a strand of her long hair around my finger. "What are you doing up?"

"Bad dream," she sighs. I hug her tighter. Sometimes she talks to me about her occasional nightmares about her family, but I won't ask. I know that if she wants to tell me, she will. "What were you doing up so late?"

"Just thinking," I answer.

"About?"

I smile. "Glow-in-the-dark stars. Zeke and Uriah had them on their ceiling when we were kids, and I loved them. I finally bought them for myself when I was twelve."

"I had some of those," she says, and I can tell that she's smiling just by her voice. I run my hand up and down her arm gently. "Caleb got them first, because he was into astronomy. It was a part of a birthday gift, along with a telescope and a book, I think, when I was about five. But I loved them. I would beg to have a sleepover in Caleb's room practically every night, and I said I was afraid of monsters to gain sympathy, but I actually just wanted to sleep under the stars." I laugh. "So when Christmas came around a couple of months later, they were in my stocking. I could've cared less about the doll I got that year, I just loved those stars. My mom put off cooking Christmas dinner to help me put them up. We made sure to include some constellations."

"Marcus thought it was a stupid waste of money when I bought them," I admit. "Silly and frivolous or something like that. And it turned out, he was right."

"What do you mean?" she asks, surprised.

"Well, you have to lay on your back in order to look at them." She understands what I'm getting at. She sighs and snuggles up closer to me.

"We just have to make it through tomorrow," Tris whispers. "Then we can get the hell out of here." She's right… but unfortunately, a day here always feels like a week to me.

Tris plays with the hem of my shirt. "Tobias? How did Marcus know about my parents?"

"I don't know, Tris. I promise I didn't tell him anything. I swear. I don't know how he knows or what his game is. I'm sorry about tonight's dinner, Tris."

"It's not your fault," she sighs.

I brush a strand of blond hair out of her face with my fingers. There is a nervous ache in the pit of my stomach that is getting hard to ignore. "I'm worried about tomorrow," I whisper. "I don't want you seeing that, or even right after…" I swallow hard. "I'm not sure that your presence will stop him. He will find a way to come after me. I want to stand up to him but…" I trail off and just sigh. I don't know how to explain why I can't stand up to my father. I'm not a child any more, I'm stronger than him, but I just  _can't_.

 _Coward_ , a little voice in the back of my mind sneers. I take in a shaky breath and let it out. My heart is pounding.

Tris props herself up on her left elbow so that she can look at me and rests her right palm on my cheek. "You deserve so much better than this, Tobias. I really hope you know that. If you don't, I'll tell you over and over until believe me. I love you. No matter what."

I search her eyes and see nothing but love and sincerity. "I love you so goddamn much, Tris," I rasp as I bring my lips to hers. I kiss her slowly and deeply, holding her face with both hands. Tris massages my tongue with hers while I slowly drag one hand down her body. I skim my hand against her flat stomach under her nightshirt on my way back up to her firm breasts. No matter how many times I touch her, I always notice how perfectly they fit in my hands. I knead her tit then roll her nipple between my fingers while I kiss my way along her jawbone, ending at her ear. I tug on the lobe lightly with my teeth. Tris lets out a little moan and I pull my hand out of her shirt so I can touch my finger to her lips.

"We have to be quiet," I warn her.

Tris glances at the door. "Does it lock?" I shake my head, but get out of bed anyway. I grab the desk chair and wedge it under the handle. I've never fooled around with a girl in here before, or even had a girl in this room, but it isn't the first time I have found a way to lock this door.

I look to Tris, who is now sitting up in bed; she smirks at me and quickly pulls her nightshirt over her head. Tris doesn't sleep in a bra, so all she's wearing now are her panties. The blanket has been pushed mostly aside, and in the moonlight streaming in through my window, I can make out just a glimpse of black lace.

I lick my lips as I stalk back to the bed. I throw the blankets aside and climb onto the bed, hovering over Tris with my knee between her thighs. She giggles quietly until I cut her off with a kiss while sliding my hand up her thigh. I kiss her neck and run my thumb over her damp panties before pushing them aside. Tris gasps as I stroke her soaking wet folds with my thumb. She wants me just as much as I want her.

"You are so wet," I moan as I hook my thumbs into the sides of her panties and pull them down. I move up to kiss her again, pressing myself against her and letting her feel my desire for her through my boxers, against her leg. Tris whimpers as I begin to circle her clit with my calloused thumb. When I slip a finger into her entrance, she throws her head back against the pillow, eyes closed, her breathing becoming shallow.

Tris grinds against my hand as I pleasure her, and she tries to keep her moans from becoming too loud. When I can tell she's getting close I bend my fingers in just the right way and kiss her hard, muffling her loud cries of ecstasy as she comes on my hand.

Tris catches her breath, then without warning, she pushes me onto my back and swiftly pulls off my boxers. I sit up and scoot back so I can lean back against the headboard, and I grin as she climbs on top of me, straddling me. Her smooth wet slit grinds against my hard dick and I moan.

As she lifts herself and takes my cock in her hand to line me up with her entrance, I capture her perfect, hard nipple in my mouth and swirl my tongue around it. Tris arches her back and bites back a moan, then sinks down onto my dick until I am fully sheathed inside her and kisses me again. We both moan into the kiss.

Tris begins riding me slowly. "Fuck, Tris, you feel so good," I whisper, leaning my forehead against her shoulder. She speeds up gradually, digging her nails into my back as I suck on her neck. I thrust my hips upward to meet Tris's movements. My cock pulses as I near my release and Tris's walls contract around me, I know she's close too.

"Oh… oh God… Tobias, shit…" Tris mumbles, struggling to stay quiet.

She bites down on my shoulder as she comes apart around me, and it's enough to make me fall over the edge. We lose rhythm as she milks my cock dry and we collapse, breathing heavily, onto the bed. When I have recovered enough, I lift myself with Tris still draped across me until I can reach the blanket, then I pull it over us.

We cuddle under my blanket for a while, enjoying the feeling of our bare skin touching. I kiss Tris tenderly before we both get up to put on our clothes. I move the desk chair back where it belongs. When I get back to the bed, Tris is lying on her side facing the wall, her eyes closed, body relaxed, breathing slow and easy.

I slide in behind her and pull the blanket over us. I pull Tris close to me and drift off with her in my arms, savoring the first good memory I have made in this house in many years.

* * *

The next morning, I survey the overgrown front yard. Every time I come back to Marcus's house, I can see that he hasn't bothered to fix anything that breaks or keep up the yard at all while I've been gone. Even with Tris here, I am expected to get the landscaping back in shape during my visit. I was nervous about leaving her alone in the house with Marcus, but I didn't need to be, because she quickly offered to help me.

It's a nice sunny day, warm for March, with a gentle breeze that just barely blows a few loose strands of her blonde hair, which she has left loose today in an attempt to cover the hickey I gave her last night. I smirk at the thought as I start up the mower while she trims the hedges. As I push the mower across the lawn, back, then across it again, I watch her work. I can't take my eyes off her slim, petite figure, she is just so sexy and gorgeous. Her fitted black t-shirt hugs her waist and she's wearing my favorite jeans, the ones that hug her modest curves perfectly. She's listening to music as she works and dancing along, swaying her hips to a beat I can't hear. She probably doesn't even know she's doing it. I can't hear over the mower, but I bet she's humming along.

Tris turns to look at me, smiling. But then her face falls and eyes widen, and she pulls her earbuds out of her ears. I quickly turn off the mower and look at her questioningly. "The bag!" Tris exclaims. I look down and my jaw drops. There is a big rip in one side of the bag and most of the grass clippings have spilled right out as I went. "How did you manage not to notice the grass falling all over your feet?" she chuckles.

"I was distracted. Not my fault your ass looks so amazing in those jeans, Tris," I smirk. I'm trying to play it cocky, but my honesty- and my embarrassment- has to be obvious by my red face.

Tris breathes an exaggerated gasp. "You're trying to make this mess  _my_  fault?!"

"Yep," I say, popping the p.

Tris rolls her eyes. "We'll work together on cleaning it all up after we're done. Get back to work, Eaton."

"Yes, ma'am," I say and jokingly salute her. "I'm going to fix up this bag first. I'll be back in a bit."

I hold the ripped bag closed with one hand as I wheel the lawn mower into the garage, stopping on the way to empty the bag into the bin. Once I'm in the garage, I search the tool bench for duct tape, and it's quick because everything is so well organized- I'm the only one who uses the tools, but Marcus still would have kicked my ass if I ever left it a mess- but I don't find duct tape. Marcus must have needed it at some point. It's probably in the kitchen junk drawer.

I toe off my shoes on the way into the house and straight to the junk drawer in the kitchen. I find the tape I was looking for immediately, grab it, and shut the drawer. I turn around to go back to the garage and jump when I see Marcus standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

"We haven't had an opportunity to talk about your education yet this weekend, Tobias," he says, his gaze boring into me. With the shadows in the room, his eyes are so dark that they look black. "I understand that you're doing well so far this semester in your courses, though I expect you to bring up that B+ in public speaking." I gulp; he's not supposed to have access to these records.

"Yes sir," I mumble. The tips of my fingers nervously pick at the ridge where the duct tape ends on the roll. Is that what he wants to talk about? One stupid B? I have two months to bring it back up, and my percentage is only two below the threshold for an A. I can only assume, with the mysterious access to my academic records, that he already knows that.

Marcus nods. "I wanted to hear about your plans for next year," he says and just stares at me.

I furrow my eyebrows. "Sir?"

"This is your opportunity to tell me, Tobias," he growls. I shake my head, still confused. I applied for that study abroad program, but it isn't something I am  _planning_  on, seeing as I haven't even received a response yet. And how would he know to keep tabs on the admissions office of a university in London?!

Marcus tuts at me and shakes his head as he takes three steps toward me. I instinctively take a step back and my lower back bumps into the tile countertop.

"Criminal justice in London, Tobias," Marcus spits. "Do we need another lesson in honesty?" Every muscle in my body is tense and I am beginning to feel lightheaded.

"No, sir," I rush. "I applied for a scholarship but I wouldn't say I am  _planning_  on that program. I don't even know if I'll be offered a spot." I know this isn't enough. "I was hoping you would be proud of my initiative and that with a scholarship, it would save some money on my education," I lie. Like my motivation was to give Marcus a pleasant surprise.

"Criminal justice?" the monster sneers. Then he mutters, "London." He glares at me. "Missing your mommy? Her family in London disowned her when she became pregnant with you, you know, Tobias. They don't want you, even without knowing what a worthless little shit you turned out to be."

I clench my fists at my sides and dig my nails into my palms and glare at the ground. "It's an opportunity worth considering whether my mother's family would want to meet me or not," I defend.

"It seems you need lessons about both honesty and respect," Marcus says coldly. His belt buckle jingles as he slides off his leather belt. I drop the duct tape and don't bother to pick it up; my hands grip the edge of the counter behind me. Marcus chuckles humorlessly. "What will Beatrice think of you leaving her behind? She's already lost so much," he says with false sympathy. "She doesn't know, does she?" I just glare. "Just friends, my ass. Turn around, Tobias." I slowly begin to turn, tightly gripping the hem of my t-shirt.

"Maybe I'll tell Beatrice about your plans," Marcus sneers as he waits for me to take off my shirt, but I'm not moving. "She deserves to know, don't you think?"

It has never been that I wanted to  _lie_  to Tris about this opportunity. We weren't together when I applied, and I think she would have encouraged me to apply even if we had been. I haven't seen any reason to tell her unless I know I've been offered a spot. But if Marcus tells her, it will definitely be hurtful. It will look like I was lying to her.

I stand frozen, still gripping my shirt. "Shirt off,  _son_ ," I hear Marcus bark. I remember Tris's words to me last night.  _You deserve so much better than this, Tobias._  It is so much easier to believe what Marcus tells me.

But even if I can't see myself the way Tris does, I want to be the person that she sees.

I want to be what she deserves.

It is that thought that gives me the push I need, makes me pull strength I didn't know I had from deep within me. I suddenly spin around, forming fists with both hands and taking on a fighting stance, and I catch the look of surprise on Marcus's face, belt wrapped around his hand. He quickly recovers and lifts his arm, raising the belt above his head, ready to strike me.

I don't let him.

I lunge quickly forward and punch Marcus square in the nose. Blood instantly begins to gush from both nostrils as he stumbles back a few steps with his left hand covering his injured face.

Marcus lifts the belt again and strikes. I try to dodge it but am too close to the kitchen counter, and the belt curls around my shirt-covered bicep. Still, it stings.

Now that I'm finally fighting back against this monster, I am enraged. I yank my arm away from him and pull the leather belt from his grasp. He raises his fist and swings at me; I dodge his attack. He has left himself open and I take the opportunity to strike and finish this.

My fist collides with Marcus's temple. I watch his eyes roll back into his head, then he collapses to the floor.

My heart pounds and I stand there panting. All I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears. I don't know how long I stand there, staring at my father unconscious on the floor. I don't register anything going on around me until a pair of warm, delicate arms wraps around my waist. I tense for a split second, but relax when I realize that it is Tris. She stares up into my eyes and slowly, the world around me becomes less distorted and my heartbeat in my ears grows faint.

Suddenly I am overwhelmed with emotion, passion and love and gratitude, all for the petite beauty in my arms. I sweep her off of her feet and, holding her bridal style, I kiss her hard.

We pull away. Tris places her hand on my cheek. "You did it," she says, her voice thick with emotion and her eyes glassy. "I told you, you deserved better."

I smile. "I think  _we_  deserve better, Tris. Better than dealing with this manipulative asshole." I set her on the kitchen island and part her legs so I can stand between them. "Tris, I just wanted to thank you," I say, my voice low. "For so many years I've been told that I'm worthless, damaged, that something was wrong with me. I believed it. And you saw the evidence of it, but you never believed it. Not for a second. You always insisted that I was… I don't know, whole."

"It's what you deserve to hear," she says firmly. I want to look into her eyes as she speaks to me, but I can't, because my eyes are too clouded with tears. "That you're whole, that you're worth loving, that you're the best person I've ever known." I kiss her again, pouring in as much of the overwhelming emotions I am feeling for her as I can.

We kiss for a few minutes, both careful not to ignite a fire that we cannot control. Finally we pull apart. I step back, then hop a few inches up so that I can sit on the counter next to Tris. "Now what?" she asks, staring at Marcus, who is still unconscious on the floor.

* * *

By the time Marcus comes to, Tris and I have both showered and taken our re-packed bags out to the car. I am brewing a pot of coffee, Tris sitting on the counter to my right and playing on her phone. I hear a moan from the other side of the kitchen island. Tris looks up with her eyes wide. "He's waking up," she whispers.

"Get ready to go," I say in a low voice. "Let's get this over with."

I abandon the pot of coffee and walk over to stand over Marcus with my arms crossed in front of my chest. Tris watches us from the hall a few yards away. We agreed earlier that I need to finish this without any back-up from her, though I know she hates Marcus enough that it will be hard for her not to throw in her two cents.

Marcus's eyes flutter open and he glares at me. "Listen carefully, Marcus, because I won't repeat myself. I have put up with your shit for long enough. I'm not a little boy and I won't be intimidated by you any longer. From this day forward, you will not be making my decisions. This is my life, I am a grown ass man, and I will do what is best for  _me._  And what that is, is for me to determine. And you will never lay a finger on me again, or I'll lay you out just like I did today."

I back away and turn when I get to Tris, leaving a stunned but fuming Marcus behind trying to peel himself off the floor.

"Come on, Tris. Let's go home," I say softly, reaching for her hand.

We walk toward the front door. "You are cut off, Tobias," Marcus screams. "You'll never get another dime from me! You'll never make it on your own!" He is still screaming at me when the door shuts behind me, but I'm not listening.

Cut off. The phrase should scare me, but instead, it makes me feel free and light. Instead of seeing my options narrow, I feel like I can do anything now. I had his financial support, but not to realize my dreams. Only to realize  _his_  image of the person I should become. My happiness was never a concern.

As I pull away from the house I grew up in, I see the grass clippings still scattered in clumps all around the lawn and my smile widens.

"I'm proud of you, Tobias," Tris says, smiling and glancing back in the direction of Marcus's house as I pull onto the freeway a few minutes later. "How do you feel?"

I grin. "Free," I reply.

My suddenly precarious financial situation creeps back into my mind. "I'm not sure how I'm going to pay for school," I admit. I guess I'll really have to take that study abroad year if I'm offered the scholarship, now.

Tris shrugs. "Take out loans, I guess. Academic scholarships, maybe? Your grades are good and you're really smart."

Sometimes Tris has too much faith in me, I think. I learn easily, but I'm not sure I'll be selected to receive academic scholarships. Maybe if I work hard enough; Tris believed I could stand up to my father and I didn't believe it, but somehow, I did it. "Do you think I can get financial aid?" I ask hopefully.

"I remember my parents learning all this stuff when they had to fill out the FAFSA for Caleb a few years ago. He had academic scholarships but that didn't cover everything. He was able to get a little aid to cover the gap. They won't care that Marcus  _won't_  pay, they will only care that he is  _capable_  of paying. I get a good chunk of my tuition covered by grants because… well… because I'm poor and don't have family to help." I sigh, and Tris looks at me and skims her hand up and down my forearm. "We'll figure it out. It might be a little more complicated than it was for me, but my experience with this bullshit will help. It'll work out."

I smile. "Let's forget about it until tomorrow. This is too good of a day to think about this shit."

Tris agrees and we talk and laugh and sing along with Red Hot Chili Peppers the rest of the drive back to Chicago.

We each grab our duffel bags out of the truck bed. I wrap my arm around Tris's waist as we make our way inside of the dorm building. "My place?" I ask.

"Definitely," Tris agrees. "Much better than that uncomfortable dinner Marcus wanted us to be at. Just let me grab my mail." She stops in front of her mailbox and pulls out her key; I do the same a few yards down the wall of little metal doors.

There are five or six envelopes; I flip quickly through the stack. "Ugh, credit card bill," Tris grumbles as she picks up her bag and starts toward me. "I spent a little more than usual this month, I don't know if I'll be able to pay it all off. I hate paying interest."

"Yeah," I say vaguely, because my eyes have stopped on unfamiliar postage in the corner of the thickest envelope. And next to the odd stamps, I see the postmark: London, England.


	32. Tell Me Baby

**_Tris_ ** **_  
_ ** _April_

In the springtime, there are so many beautiful images to capture, but this is the first time I have had a good friend who shares my enthusiasm.  Once or twice a week, depending upon our work and study group schedules, Marlene and I get together to take photos.  Shauna comes with us when she can, but her course load is pretty intense this semester and she has been very busy as most of her study groups meet several times a week.  Over the past few months, Marlene and I have grown a lot closer.  She has proved to be a good, kind and loyal friend.  The closest friend I’ve had in a long time.  Other than Tobias, I guess, but while Tobias was my friend before we became more, it was always different than my friendship with Marlene.

I crouch at the shore of the pond and zoom in on a single-file line of baby ducklings trailing after their mother, leaving a ripple of a wake behind them.  “How are things with you and Four?” Marlene asks.

“Good,” I automatically answer.  “How are you and Uriah?”

“Oh, we’re fine. I know he seems like a goofball, but he’s so good to me,” she answers.  She is silent for a minute while I snap more photos.  “You’re good for him, you know.”

“Uriah?” I say jokingly.

Mar rolls her eyes.  “No, you idiot!  Four, obviously.”  She leans back on the sand with her fingers threaded together behind her head.  “He’s just always been so closed off and… well… kind of an asshole, sometimes.”  

I laugh.  I’ve heard him referred to that way many times, and I was on the receiving end of it a few times this fall, but overall that assessment of Tobias has never made sense to me.  “I don’t know why people say that about him,” I say.  “I mean, yeah, he _can_ be like that, but it seems like it’s only when he feels like he needs to protect himself in some way.”  I bite my lip listening to my own observation.  I’ve been seeing more of the closed-off, “Four” version of Tobias lately, and I don’t know why.

Marlene shrugs.  “That’s because he’s different with you.  He always has been.  Right from the start.”

“Except when he was mad at me,” I point out.

“Yeah, except then, but then he was worse than ever.  I think that was only because you meant so much to him.”  She sits up again.  “Do you know that I’ve been friends with Four for years, and never once been to his house?  Uriah said he has, but only once or twice, when they were kids.  The few times someone asked, Four made excuses.  I’ve never met Four’s dad, and only seen him once, at graduation.  Even Christina only met Mr. Eaton twice.  But he even took you up there for the weekend.  I don’t know, it’s just nice to see him letting someone in.”

I scroll through today’s photos again to avoid looking at Marlene.  I know exactly why Tobias never invited anyone over, of course, and I know that Tobias has never shared that information with anyone else but me.  

Everything seemed so amazing when we drove home from Milwaukee last month, but as soon as we got back to the dorm, something changed, and I’ve been trying to put my finger on it ever since.  Four is still sweet to me, but I can feel him holding back.  I want to call him out on it, but then I realize that I am keeping my own secrets and it just feels too hypocritical.  I can’t demand he share everything with me when I’m unwilling to do the same.  I will, I’m just not ready yet, and for now, I will assume that it’s the same for him.

“Tris?  What’s wrong?”  This is the downside to having good friends: they know how to read you, making it much more difficult to keep hidden the thoughts and feelings you want to hide away.  

I look at Marlene for a moment, then sigh.  Maybe telling someone will help.

“I feel like Four is closing himself off from me lately, and I don’t know why.  I mean, like I just said a minute ago, he does that when he has to protect himself, but why would he need protection from me?”

Marlene shrugs.  “I sure don’t know.  Why would he need to protect himself from his friends?  But he always has.”

“This is different,” I say distantly.  I can’t explain that to her really; I know why he had to protect himself from them, he was afraid of their possible rejection if they knew what he put up with from Marcus.  But I thought I knew his secrets.

“So ask him,” she suggests.  “He talks to you.”

“I can’t.  I’d feel like a hypocrite, because I haven’t told him everything, either.”

“Is everything okay?” she asks, concerned.  “Oh my god, you’re not pregnant, are you?”

“No!” I shout, shocked.  “Why, do I look like I am?  Because, if so, I’m never wearing this shirt again.”

Marlene laughs.  “No, not at all.  Pregnancy just seemed like something you might keep from him for a while.  It would certainly take some time to work up the courage to tell Uriah if I were ever in a situation like that.”

“He’d know within a week when I consistently turned down alcohol,” I joke.

“True,” Marlene chuckles.  “Okay, then what’s wrong?  Spill.”

I lean back on the sand, propping myself on my elbows and look out over the lake.  “I’m fine… it’s just, um… back in the fall, I applied for this scholarship.  It’s for a study abroad program, a year in London.  Four and I weren’t together yet when I submitted the application.  We weren’t even speaking.  It was right after Eric and I broke up.”

“I take it you got in,” Marlene says, smiling.  “Congratulations.”

I laugh.  “No, actually, I didn’t.  Their visual arts program is extremely competitive, and I’m on the waitlist.  I got the letter a few weeks ago.  That’s why I haven’t told him yet.”

“Why don’t you want to tell him?” she asks gently.  “I bet he’d be really proud of you.”

I sigh. “Would you be anxious to tell Uriah you applied for a program four thousand miles away?  That you might leave for a whole year?  I mean, I wouldn’t even be able to afford to fly home for Christmas.”  

Marlene frowns.  “No, I wouldn’t be anxious to tell him, that’s true.  But I think we’d get through it.  I think Uriah and I are strong enough to spend a year long distance.”

I just nod and draw shapes in the sand with my finger.  That’s what I’m not sure of.  If I get in, can we survive the distance?  A year is a long time, and we’ve only been together, officially, for a few months.

And then there’s Caleb.  Sure, he was the one that left me behind two years ago, so I shouldn’t feel guilty for doing the same.  I know he’d understand and be happy for me, encourage me to take the opportunity; after all, of the two of us, my brother has always been the one who loved learning and valued education above just about anything else.

Despite my initial uncertainty, I contacted Caleb a few weeks ago.  We have met up twice since then-- the first time for coffee at Tori’s, and the second, a game of mini-golf.  I actually had a really good time with my brother.  It has been easier to put aside my hurt and anger over the past than I had expected.  Now that we are rebuilding our relationship, the idea of putting that on hold for a year makes me feel a little sad.  And what if, when he finishes his graduate program, he gets a job far away from here?  The thought of losing the last of my family for a second time makes my throat feel tight.

“I think you should put aside your worries about Four for a while and decide what _you_ want,” Marlene says after a few minutes of comfortable silence.  “If Four loves you-- and I’m certain he does-- he will wait for you.”

I nod, but the lump in my throat doesn’t disappear.

* * *

 

“Shit!” I hiss as I grab the first thing I find-- a black t-shirt from my basket of dirty laundry-- and wipe up the water I just spilled on my desk.  I separate the now-damp envelopes in the pile of opened mail and fan them out, face down, on the windowsill to dry.  There is one envelope there that I haven’t been able to bring myself to open, so I’ve avoided the whole pile; who wants to open the bills, anyway?  Especially since I know that I didn’t pay off the whole balance on my credit card last month.  Again.  That’s not the one I’ve been avoiding though.

I have barely finished arranging the damp, unopened mail on the windowsill when a knock sounds at the door.  I grab my purse and sling it over my shoulder on my way to the door; it should be Tobias, here to pick me up for our date.  I smile as I open the door, and sure enough, it’s Tobias.  He looks so handsome wearing black jeans-- my favorite pair, they hug his ass perfectly-- and a dark blue shirt that nearly matches his gorgeous eyes.

“Hey, baby,” he smiles as he wraps his arm around me and presses his palm to the small of my back, pulling me in for a kiss.

“Hey, yourself,” I say, smiling back at him, after we break apart.  I step into the hall and pull the door shut behind me.  Tobias closes his hand around mine and begins to lead me down the hall.

“So, what do you have planned for us on this afternoon?” I ask as we make our way down the seven flights of stairs to the lobby.  Because he does not like confined spaces, Tobias and I often take the stairs instead of the elevator.  It makes him more comfortable, so I don’t mind.

Tobias smirks.  “If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”

“Come on!  At least a hint?” I whine.

“Nope.” I pout, and as we step outside the dormitory building into the warm sunshine, he relents… a little.  “Fine, your only hint is that we will be outdoors.”

That doesn’t tell me much, but I’m somewhat satisfied.  “Good.  It’s too beautiful today to stay indoors.”

“I agree,” he says, bringing our joined hands up to his mouth and kissing the back of my hand softly before he lets it go to unlock and open the passenger door of his truck.

As Tobias drives, I watch the landscape out the window and try to figure out where we are headed.  I make guesses, from Buckingham Fountain to Millennium Park, even as we near Navy Pier and I think maybe he’s taking me back to the Ferris Wheel and carnival just like our first official date.  Tobias just laughs.  “You won’t get me to tell you, Tris,” he smirks, and I groan in frustration as we drive past the Navy Pier.  

We’re nearing Lincoln Park when I am almost certain I know where we are going.  “Ooh, are we going to the zoo?!” I nearly yell.  I remember telling Tobias a few weeks ago that I’ve only ever been to the zoo three or four times, all when I was in grade school, usually on class field trips.  I tried to get Eric to go with me, but he always put it off and I eventually gave up on the idea.  This _has_ to be it.  

Tobias tries to hide it, but I still catch his satisfied smile before he adopts the same mischievous smirk he’s been wearing the whole drive.  Tobias laughs at the way I bounce in my seat as I the sign at the zoo entrance comes into view.  

We spend several hours looking at all the animals.  Tobias’s favorite is the polar bear, while my favorite experience was watching the penguins.  We had arrived to their exhibit at feeding time, and it was so cool watching the birds dive into the water to retrieve the fish.  It’s fascinating how an animal with wings instead of fins can swim so gracefully.  For the most part we had a great time, but a few times I felt like while Tobias was physically there, his mind was a million miles away.  I feel, more than ever, like he is keeping something from me.

As we leave the zoo and walk out to the car, I tell him about the “Fall Fest” I have been told the zoo holds in September and October each year.  It’s mostly for kids, but I’ve heard that there’s a corn maze, pumpkin patch, and musical entertainment.  “We should go to that sometime!” I smile as I finish my explanation.  Instantly I am mentally kicking myself.  I don’t even know if I’ll be on this continent in September, and here I am making plans.

Tobias’s eyes are suddenly guarded, like the way he usually is with everyone else (but usually not with me) and he scratches the back of his neck like he always does when nervous or uncomfortable.  My face falls and get this sick feeling in my stomach even before he speaks.  “Uh, yeah, maybe.  It sounds kind of kiddish.”  

Kiddish?  Half our dates are “kind of kiddish”!  And we just spent the day at the zoo, I thought we had fun.  “Oh…” I say softly.  “I thought you had a good time today…”  He’s been a little off lately and isn’t talking to me about it, and it’s beginning to make me nervous.  Uncertain.

Something flashes in his eyes but it is gone before I can place it.  “I did.  The zoo is fun, we can come back again… sometime.”  I nod slowly, and we walk in silence.

So the zoo isn’t the problem… why am I even worried about this?  As soon as I suggested the idea, I was regretting suggesting we make plans for this fall, so I should be glad, right?  Then it hits me: the Fall Fest is almost half a year away.  It’s not the zoo or the festival that he’s being weird about, it’s the fact that I’m wanting to plan for something in the future, that I am assuming that we will still be together.  And Tobias doesn’t want to plan that far ahead.

He’s not all in, like I am.

The thought makes me feel sick.  I stew over this realization in a confusing storm of emotions.  I feel sad and hurt that I put my heart out there only to have it now seem that he doesn’t quite return my feelings, I feel stupid for believing that I could be enough for him, and angry that… I don’t even understand _why_ exactly I am angry, or whether it is at Tobias or myself or both, I just am.  

I’m surprised, too, though, to realize what I _don’t_ feel: relief.  With how conflicted I have been feeling about this possible scholarship offer, that’s the first thing I would have expected to feel.  I hated how conflicted and confused I felt, but at least if I wasn’t offered the scholarship, there was something here in Chicago worth staying for.  There was a bright side.  But I feel like now, I’ll open a rejection letter and that silver lining will have disappeared.

And that makes me more angry.  At least now, I understand why.

I glance at Tobias. Maybe I’m reacting too quickly to this.  Maybe there is some other reason he didn’t want to go.  Maybe if I ask, he will explain himself.

I decide to come right out and ask.  “Tobias, why don’t you want to go to the Fall Fest at the zoo?”  I cringe hearing the hint of accusation in my voice.  I tried to hide it.  I’m not sure if he noticed.

Tobias’s eyes widen a little and he opens his mouth to answer, then shuts it without saying anything.  I wait a good thirty seconds before he speaks.  “I-- I’m sorry, Tris, I don’t know what was wrong with me.  Of course I’d like to go there with you.  I’m just… worried about money, now that I’m on my own.  You know, the gas to get back up there and…” he shrugs.  

He glances at me, and he’s smiling, but it’s forced.  I can see it.  He guides the car onto the off ramp of the freeway exit nearest the college; we’ll be back on campus in a few minutes.

I glare.  “You’re keeping something from me.  I can tell.  You have been for weeks.  So whatever it is, just say it, because I’m sick of this,” I snap.

Tobias stiffens.  “If I _were_ keeping something from you, Tris, that would be _my_ business.  One of the reasons I was even able to open up to you about Marcus was because you don’t push me and I don’t like being pushed any more now than I did then.  I thought you trusted me, Tris.”  His voice is calm and quiet, but there’s an edge to it.  He is angry.  Well, that’s fine, because so am I.

“You know what I think, _Four?_ ” I hiss as the dormitory comes into view.  “I think you’re full of shit.”

“What the hell, Tris?!  Like you’re an open book?” he spits, each word a bit louder than the last.  His words remind me why I haven’t said anything about his behavior before now, but I am too angry and hurt to care that I am being unfair.  “And don’t call me Four!  You know my name.”

“I’ll call you Four as long as you’re acting like him!  You’ve been shutting me out for weeks now, right when I _thought_ that after the shit with your dad, we were closer than ever!  But I was completely wrong, wasn’t I, _Four_?  Talk to me when you’re ready to tell me the fucking truth,” I shout with tears in my eyes, unbuckling my seatbelt as he pulls into an empty space in the dorm building’s parking lot.  

Tobias is fuming as he pulls into an empty parking spot in the dorm’s lot.  The instant the car stops I open my door and storm away as a furious Tobias stares after me.

  



	33. Factory of Faith

**CHAPTER 33: Factory of Faith**

_**Tris  
** _ _April_

I am relieved that Tobias doesn't follow me to my dorm room, because I am definitely too upset with him to see any more of him right now. I would have gone straight to the training room in the dormitory basement, and I considered it, but jeans and a sweater aren't exactly the ideal clothing for a hard workout. And this is definitely going to be a hard workout.

I change in record speed, forcing myself not to look at the envelopes drying on my windowsill, and lock the door on my way out. I decide to take the stairs; Tobias should be wherever he decided to go by now, and this way I'll be at least partway warmed up before I get to the training room.

When I arrive, there are a few people in here working out- a guy on the rowing machine, a girl on the treadmill, but no one near the punching bags or sparring mat. I drop my bag by the wall and stretch, probably not as well as I should because I am too impatient. Soon I decide I've done enough to avoid serious injury and start beating up a punching bag.

I take my muddled emotions out on the punching bag and time loses meaning, I don't notice the world around me, I just punch and kick again and again. At some point I look up from the bag and vaguely register that Christina is working the bag two down from mine with Eric behind her, probably coaching her, but it doesn't bother me. I don't care what they do any more. Even if I did, I am in my own world right now.

I keep going until a hand wraps around my wrist. I jump, startled, and automatically relax my wrist before rotating it toward his thumb, breaking the hold and take a step back.

I look up to see Eric frowning at me. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, Tris." His voice is strangely calm, soothing, kind. But I have no idea why he would be approaching me in the middle of my workout. I raise an eyebrow and Eric mimics me, then looks at me with a good-natured smirk.

Christina approaches us, frowning. Not a jealous frown… concerned. She hands Eric a roll of tape, bottle of water, and one of the worn towels he has always kept in his gym bag, then goes back to her workout at the punching bag and Eric slowly steps toward me.

I feel my pulse, which was elevated from my workout, begin to calm and my breathing becoming more steady as Eric gently cleans my hands. I wasn't thinking when I started my workout, and I forgot to tape my hands. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, my anger and hurt, that I guess I didn't even notice that my knuckles had cracked and begun to bleed. Eric stays silent, not saying a word until he finishes wrapping my hands in tape.

When he is finally done, Eric hesitantly drops my hand, but he doesn't walk away. He just stands there looking at me, frowning and chewing on the ring through his lower lip.

Finally, I walk around him toward the bag. I pause, not looking at him. "Thank you," I say quietly.

He nods. "You're welcome."

I raise my arms to resume my workout but Eric's voice makes me pause again, and I turn to look at him.

"Tris, I know you don't like me much. I don't know what Four did, but if you need me to kick his ass…" he shrugs, smirking.

I laugh- it really is funny, the idea of my asshole ex sticking up for me. Especially with all his and Tobias' history. As angry as I have been with Eric, and as much as I honestly dislike him at this point, we did love each other once. I can see it in his eyes, that he does care for me.

Tobias is undoubtedly a better man, especially is a much better man for  _me._ I know in my heart that he is  _the_  man for me, the only one. And then I am hit with a wave of guilt for how I pushed him, how I  _accused_  him instead of just  _talking_  to him. I am still hurt and angry- I still don't know where we stand, exactly, and I hate the way that feels… like I am stumbling around, off-balance- but I know that I overreacted.

I can't be positive that Tobias and I will work this out, especially since I don't yet know whether I have been accepted to that program in England, but we have to try.  _I_  have to try, at least. How can I expect the truth from him when I am so unwilling to give him the same? I need to tell him the truth, as soon as possible, no matter what is in that envelope.

"We had a fight," I confide to my ex-boyfriend. I can't believe I'm telling him  _anything_  about this, but he has been kind, and he hasn't pushed me, and I can see in his eyes that he is genuine. "I just needed to work off some steam."

Eric nods and looks at his shoes. "Better than saying horrible things just to hurt each other." I know he is referring to himself, when he and I used to fight. He looks up and locks eyes with me. "You'll be okay?"

I nod. "Yeah, I'll be alright."

He gives me a half smile. "My offer always stands," he smirks, and I laugh a little as he walks back to Christina. She pauses to peck him on the lips, and they get back to their little training session. Her punches have improved a lot since last I saw her here.

I work out for another twenty minutes. When I stop and towel off, all the aggression has drained out of me and I feel ready to face my problems and mistakes. As ready as I'm going to, anyway. I grab my bag and wave to Eric and Christina on my way out the door.

* * *

I think about what to say to Tobias as I towel dry my hair after my shower. I came straight to the communal bathroom when I made it back to the seventh floor, wanting nothing more than a shower to wash off the thick layer of sweat from my workout. On my way up I had checked my phone and saw that I had missed three calls from Tobias, but I don't want to call him back until I'm really ready to talk, because who knows how things will go once we make contact. I know, though, that if I blow up at him like I did in the car, we aren't going to get anywhere.

One thing I have decided for sure, though, is that I will not open that envelope until I have told Tobias the truth. I want to work this out with him, figure out where we stand. If he's really as committed as I am, then his input matters to me, should there be a decision to make. And if there isn't… if this is a rejection letter… he needs to know that he is important enough in my life to tell him anyway.

I have not trusted enough in what we have to let him in. But trust is like a leap of faith. You can never be certain, until you give someone a chance to prove it, and I haven't done that.

I still know that he is keeping something from me, I am certain. But maybe there's a good reason. He has trusted me with deep secrets before, and I have broken his trust in the past… yet he still gave me another chance.

I gather my things up in my gym bag and leave the bathroom. I turn the corner that leads down the hall to my dorm room, looking down at my phone, preparing to call Tobias and see if he's ready to talk it out with me. It has already been three hours since I marched away from Tobias's car in a blind fury.

The strap of my gym bag slides off my shoulder and I slip my phone back into my pocket so I can pull it up, but as I do I look up and see the figure ahead of me, down the hall, next to my own door. He sits slouched against the wall with an arm curled around his bent knees, the other holding his phone, which he looks at as if staring hard enough will make it ring. His hair is disheveled from running his fingers through it too many times. Honestly, he looks wrecked.

I stop where I am and stare, then his head turns and he stares back. As he rises to his feet, and I am suddenly so nervous that I don't know how my legs carry me the rest of the way down the hall, but they do.

Tobias glances away from me and runs his fingers through his hair again, messing it up even more, then looks me tiredly in the eyes. "Can we- can I talk to you, Tris? Please?"

* * *

_**Tobias** _

I go over and over my fight with Tris while I sit outside her dorm room. I hated the way she was pushing me, even though I knew she was right. She was so angry, and so was I. But behind her anger, she was hurt, and behind my anger, I was afraid.

As soon as I had calmed down enough, I tried to call her. Three times, actually. She didn't answer. Was she intentionally ignoring me? Or maybe she left her phone somewhere.

I decided a workout might help, but when I got to the basement, I saw Eric and Christina going in. I didn't want to deal with them- I haven't spoken to Eric in months, and this didn't seem like the time to change that- so I started back up the stairs. A few minutes later, I found myself standing in front of Tris's door. I knocked, but she didn't answer. So I waited.

For an hour and a half I have been sitting here (occasionally getting up and pacing), next to her door, wishing she would at least call me back. Even if only to tell me off some more. People walk by me here and there, some of giving me weird looks, but none of them are Tris.

I stare at the blank phone screen, wishing it would light up to notify me of a text or incoming call, but it remains dark and silent. Then I look up and just yards away from me, there she is. For a minute we just stare at each other. Her face is blank, a practiced sort of emotional void, but her eyes swirl with conflict: hurt, regret… and love. Every time I look in those eyes, I see love. And it gives me the strength I need now.

My limbs feel stiff as I push off the wall and stand, and anxiety begins to show on Tris's face as she slowly continues her walk down the hall toward me. She is carrying her gym bag- I guess I had the right idea when I tried to go down there before. I look away and run my fingers through my hair for the millionth time today- a nervous habit I have had since I was young, I'm sure it's a mess by now. I look back up and take a deep breath. "Can we- can I talk to you, Tris?" I ask. "Please?"

Tris slowly nods and fits her key in the doorknob. She pushes it open and gestures for me to follow her in. I notice the discoloration and split skin of her knuckles. I should have known that was what she would be doing.

Tris sets her gym bag on the floor at the foot of her neatly made bed; her room is always tidy. Well,  _her_  side of the room, anyway, so it's odd seeing a few things out of place. Her clothes from earlier today are half-in the laundry basket and half-out, and some crumpled envelopes sit on the windowsill. She quickly stacks them up and places them on the desk, then pushes the clothes into the basket as I sit down on her bed.

"Tobias, I'm really sorry about earlier," she says sheepishly, surprising me. "I-"

"No, Tris," I interrupt. "I mean, I didn't like feeling as though you were pushing me, but you were right. There is something I've been worrying about, and you don't deserve to be left in the dark, I should have told you right away. I'm ready to talk, if you're still willing to listen."

Tris sighs in relief and pulls the desk chair over to face me. She reaches over and takes my hand and says, "Yes, please, tell me."

"Look, I need you to know, I was always planning to tell you this. I just… I was trying to figure some things out first." She nods. "Months ago, when I was still with Christina, I applied for this opportunity for next year… a one year study abroad thing, in London. I applied for the criminal justice program. Chris came over while I was working on the application and she saw it and flipped out. I sort of forgot about it for a while after I put the application in but… I got in, Tris," I say softly. She opens her mouth to speak but I raise my hand to stop her. "Please, just- let me say everything I need to and then you can yell at me or congratulate me or whatever you want to say, I'll listen to any of it. Okay?" She nods.

I take another deep breath and let it out slowly. "I got the acceptance letter that same day we came back from Milwaukee. And the thing is, Tris, I love you. I love you so much, and I need you, and I've just been so scared that if I leave, maybe you won't want to wait for me. I keep remembering how Christina flipped out about it and at the time, I was so mad at her, so angry that she would be anything other than supportive. I was afraid you would be upset… and at the same time, I worried that you'd tell me to take the opportunity, and what if.. I mean… a year is a long time, Tris." I swallow hard, past the lump in my throat. "I don't even know what response I am hoping for in telling you this. I just… I've spent the last month racking my brain for any way to turn it down, looking for scholarships that the deadlines haven't already passed. I found one, but I probably won't get a response by the time I need to give an answer on the study abroad program. And Marcus has been calling... I even considered calling him back and taking whatever terms he gives me so he'd pay for my tuition again… but we both know, I can't do that. I'd never get out from under him after that."

I study Tris's face. I can usually read her, but right now, I can't. "So… you don't want the scholarship? You're wanting to stay?" she asks cautiously.

I sigh. "I- I don't know. I just wanted to have a choice. I wanted to be able to talk to you about it and decide together, because Tris, you're the most important person in my life, and I can't stand to lose you."

Then she reaches out and holds my face in both hands, and she pulls me toward her, pressing her lips to mine. When she pulls away, there are tears in her eyes and she jumps out of her chair without saying a word. My heart pounds as she rushes to her desk and quickly flips through the envelopes she had left in a stack there earlier.

Tris climbs onto the bed and sits facing me with her legs crossed, like a little kid, like she so often does. She has an envelope in her hand and she sets it next to her on the bed face down. I want to grab it and see what she could have been so anxious to get after the speech I just gave her, but she grabs both my hands and holds them between us with tears in her eyes.

"Tobias," she says in a shaky voice, "I'm such a fucking hypocrite." Okay… I was not expecting that. Not at all. I raise an eyebrow and she continues. "I pushed you to tell me what was bothering you, but I was keeping something from you, too. You see… after Eric and I broke up, when I was living at Tori's and you and I weren't talking, I applied for an opportunity, too. I've been afraid to tell you, too- I kept thinking maybe it was better to wait until I knew for sure but it kept eating at me. And when you wouldn't talk to me I just felt more unsure… then today at the zoo I thought… well, I thought maybe you weren't as committed as I am, that I didn't mean as much to you as you do to me. I felt angry and hurt that I've been worrying about this when you didn't even want to talk about things we could do together a few months from now, you know?" I nod. That makes sense, but…

"Wait, what kind of opportunity?" I ask feeling like there's a rock in the pit of my stomach. Which is stupid, because no matter where she's going, I'm going away for a year anyway. What difference does it make if while I'm in England, she's in Chicago or Japan or Timbuktu? Either way, we're apart. But somehow, it matters.

"A study abroad program. Visual arts."

I nod, watching her expectantly. "And… did you get in?"

"I'm on the waitlist," she says cautiously. "But…" She drops my left hand and picks up the envelope that is beside her. "I got another letter from them yesterday. I couldn't bring myself to open it. And today, I realized that I needed to know where we stand first, that I didn't want to keep it from you any longer, you deserve to know what's going on with me just as much as I deserve to know what's going on with you. So before I found you here, I had planned to come and get the letter, then find you so we could talk… then open it together."

I want to ask her where she might be going next year, but the word catches in my throat. Because as soon as she tells me, I will have to let go of this impossible hope that she might be going where I am.

And then she flips the envelope over and places it in my hand. I stare in her eyes for another moment; she looks so nervous, and she's chewing on her lip, so I run my thumb across it to pull it free. She kisses my thumb before I let my hand drop and just looks at me with so much love in her eyes.

Then I look down at the envelope. My jaw drops and my heart skips a beat when I read the return address: Cromwell University, London, UK. The same university I will spend all of next year at.

I crash my lips against hers, pulling her to me with my hand at the small of her back. She deepens the kiss and tangles her hands in my hair. I slide my hand under the back of her shirt, but she slowly pulls away.

"Whatever this letter says... " she starts.

"We'll make it work," I finish for her. "I really, really hope you got in, Tris- not just because I want you with me, but because you deserve it. But if not… I'm all in, Tris. You're it for me."

"Me too," she whispers. "I love you so much. We'll figure this out together."

We nod at each other and I push the envelope gently back into Tris's hands. She looks down at it and back up to me. "We'll make it work, Tris. Now, come on, the suspense is killing me! Besides, they'd be crazy not to let you in. Open it."

She takes a deep breath and tears the envelope, then looks at me for reassurance one more time before she slowly removes the papers folded inside. It takes everything in me to hold myself back from grabbing it out of her hands and reading it. Tris scoots closer to me and I wrap my arm around her waist, gripping her hip firmly in my hand. She holds the letter between us as she carefully unfolds it.

We silently skim the first few lines:

_Dear Ms. Prior,  
We are pleased to welcome you to join us for the 2017-2018 school year at Cromwell University School of Performing and Visual Arts on a full academic scholarship…_

"I got in? I got in!" Tris screeches, tossing the letter aside. My heart soars and I throw my arms around her and crash my lips against hers.

I pull away and we rest our foreheads together, both grinning ear to ear. "Congratulations, baby," I murmur. "I knew they'd have to be crazy to turn you away."

"We're going to London!" And she pulls me back in for the most passionate kiss of my life so far. I kiss her back so hard that our teeth clash together and our tongues explore every inch of each other's mouths, only breaking apart for her to pull my shirt over my head. I immediately pull hers off too. We continue undressing each other, making out the whole time, until we are down to just our underwear.

I pull back and glance at the door. "Nari?" I say, asking about the whereabouts of her roommate.

"Won't be back till tomorrow," Tris mumbles against my lips as she hooks her thumbs in the waistband of my boxer briefs. She pushes them down and I finish pushing them off with my feet while kissing down her neck. I unhook her bra and push the straps down her arms. Tris gasps as I roll a hard nipple between my fingers while kissing down her collarbone and between her breasts.

She pulls me back up to her mouth for a searing kiss, I slide my hand down her smooth, tight stomach, until it is between her legs. God, she is so wet and ready for me.

"Tobias," she mumbles against my mouth, "stop teasing." Another gasp when I slip a finger inside her. " _Please._  I need you," she pants, and I smirk at her while I position myself at her entrance.

I just stay there for a moment, just pressing against her, not pushing inside yet. Gently pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face then cupping her cheek, I whisper, "Tris, I love you." And with that, I enter her all at once.

"Oh, god," Tris moans. "I love you."

Sometimes when we make love, it is slow and sweet, but this time is all passion and need, almost desperate. But still, we kiss passionately as I pound into her hard and deep. She rakes her nails up my back, probably hard enough to scratch me but I don't care, not right now, then she brings her hands to cup my face. I grab one wrist then the other and pin Tris's hands above her head and my mouth moves to her neck, sucking and biting before soothing the smooth skin with my tongue. Tris arches her back, both our breathing is labored and Tris brings her hips up to meet each thrust.

"Faster," Tris pleads, and I oblige. "Fuck… mmm right there. I'm close, Tobias."

"Me too, baby." And I am, I can barely get the words out because it's hard to think about anything other than how amazing she feels, so tight around me. Tris mumbles unintelligible nonsense as her muscles clench around my dick and it pushes me over the edge; we lose rhythm as we come together, chanting each other's names. I collapse on top of Tris, my full weight on her petite body, and I roll off as soon as I can pull myself together enough to move.

"Don't go," Tris whines, but she just rolls toward me and slings her bare leg over mine and rests her head on my shoulder instead; I wrap my arm around her back and pull her closer.

I kiss her, long and tender. "God, I love you."

"I love you, too." We lay there silently for a few minutes, Tris drawing small circles on my bare chest and me stroking her long, silky (but now tangled) hair.

"We could have made it work, if we had to," Tris murmurs. "The distance."

I smile. "Yeah. Yeah, I think we could. I love you way too much to let a few thousand miles break us apart."

"Me too."

And I know, in this moment, that it's true. We're both stronger together, strong enough for whatever life sends our way. Whatever happens… we only need each other, and we will last.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! I plan to add an epilogue sometime in the next few weeks, so look out for that.
> 
> A big thanks to Fourtris_HEA for beta services throughout this story.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read my story and for your support!


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